1819/Reap what you Sow

Reap what you Sow
Date of Scene:	24 May 2020
Location:	Luo Xiatong's Penthouse
Synopsis:	Shen and Vampirella track Luo Xiatong to his lair. A airborne attack lends them the element of surprise. Bullets fly and claws gouge, many die. Luo Xiatong meets his brutal demise from the fang's of Vampirella. Shen scratches off an old nemesis.
Cast of Characters:	Shen Kuei, Ella Normandy

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Shen Kuei has posed:
The flight for Shen's safehouse ended unsurprisingly in another safehouse. Mister Kuei evidently had a tiering system for his abodes. Some were secure yet he expected to have discovered. Others were one more level of misdirection and deception deep, but even these he expected to have to 'burn'. He kept two of what he would consider his highest tier of security. It was spartan. An unused office rented as storage space in a warehouse. Non-perishable food stuff lined one wall, a cot another. It was here that Shen and Ella Normandy escaped to regroup and plot their mutual revenge.

A combination of detective work and good ole fashioned bribery had brought Shen a lead on one of the operatives working for Luo Xiatong. Vampirella had proven to be the perfect abductor. Following a dual effort of Shen as bad cop, and Ella as good cop. The operative ultimately revealed the penthouse location which was central to Luo Xiatong's operation in New York City.

Now, Shen and Vampirella find themselves parked a couple of blocks away when Shen looking up at a New York highrise with a pair of night-vision binoculars. He's wearing a catsuit with various utility pouches. His trenchcoat is folded up in the backseat for now. "There's our target. How would you like to proceed? Based on the -two- raids I've experienced this month, I expect body armor and sub-machine guns."

Ella Normandy has posed:
    "Those aren't a problem for me," Vampirella says, neither modestly nor immodestly, just stating a fact as she peers, intent and unblinking, at the highrise. She's perched on her toes with her palms between her feet, like a giant cat, wearing her now-famous costume. "Cameras are, though. I don't need my face becoming public." She spares Shen a glance. "What do you intend to do to them in there?"

Shen Kuei has posed:
"In the raid you were not privy too, Luo Xiatong made it apparently clear that he intended to kill me. Unfortunately for him, his pride has proven his downfall. His minion uttered the name thinking he had a bead on me. More unfortunately for the minion, his weapon jammed, and he was privy to a ten story drop and abrupt stop padded by asphalt." Shen's expression turns grave. "Xiatong used lethal force first. There will be no quarter. Anyone who gets in my way, I will disable as efficiently and brutally as necessary. My objective will not be complete until Xiatong is neutralized."

Shen gazes to the highrise once more and hums. "As for cameras, I would expect some building security in the hallways. If you wish to avoid being filmed, the most direct route may be the window. Would you be capable of carrying me for a short flight? And if so, would you be able to hover?"

Ella Normandy has posed:
    "Carrying, yes. Hovering, only with a lot of bouncing. I'm not a hummingbird." She hops off her perch and kicks a small duffel bag along the ground to Shen. It's zipped closed, but it contains half a dozen stakes of yellow ash, each at least two inches thick and sharpened to a suicidal point. "I expect to have to drink to heal myself while we're there. If I do, you have to destroy the body's heart with one of these. I can't do it myself." She looks like she's about to continue, but after a miniscule pause, she changes the subject. "Is there anything you need from me?"

Shen Kuei has posed:
"Bouncing is acceptable. Though, considering your reaction to a flash-bang in our previous encounter, perhaps the plan I had in mind isn't the best one. If submachine gun fire isn't a concern for you, then I suggest we can altitude and then you dive at his window. I will open fire once in range to damage and break the glass, our enemies will scatter in shock from the abrupt assault. You will then do what you do best, and I will do what I do best. Together, we will annihilate them. You will have vengeance for their transgressions, and I will send a very pointed message back to my homeland." He takes the duffel bag from her and steps out of the car. His trench-coat is retrieved from the bag and the stakes are transitioned into sewn in bandolier slots within the heavier garment. He pulls it over his shoulders and zip it up for protection against broken glass. He finally completes his ensemble with a protective glasses. Walking around to the front of the car, he will extend his arms to the side. "Let's strike."

Ella Normandy has posed:
    Vampirella nods at Shen and doesn't smirk as she crouches at his side, her left forearm sweeping into the back of his knees and her right into the back of his shoulders, knocking him off his feet and cradling him. This close, he gets to really enjoy the wet, crunching, ripping sounds of her transformation as her muscles tighten and harden like stone, the skin on her back ruptures as hollow-boned wings sprout and grow from her shoulder blades, her fingers lengthen and thicken into killing claws whose tips lightly poke at Shen's sides. Her irises fill with red as if blood is pouring into them (maybe that's literally true). When her wings are fully formed and extended out to their obscene twenty-foot span, she crouches again and jumps; not very high, but higher than a woman her size carrying a man Shen's size should be able to. Her wings flap down hard, noisily, pummeling the air for lift as she climbs in a slow spiral upward around Shen's safehouse, waiting for him to have the altitude and clear shot he'll need to prepare for the dive; a dive she won't be able to fit through unless her wings withdraw well before they reach the window. She needs to lose her wings in mid-dive, in other words. That should be exciting.

Shen Kuei has posed:
Shen seems remarkably composed considering the sequence of events. Though he does make a mental note of this being the first time a woman had cradled him and whisked him away. The leather of the trench coat is fortunately reasonable armour against the points of her claws. As they reach the apex of their journey, he draws a pistol from a holster with his trenchcoat. He waits for the dive to begin. Carefully gauging the distance, once their near a reasonable proximity, he opens fire. The silencer on the end of the pistol muffles the shots to high pitched puffs. With the wind rushing past their ears, they are hardly noticeable to Vampirella.

The glass begins to spider and crack before them. A guard who was lounging upon the couch of the apparently well furnished penthouse takes a bullet to the back of the head. He jerks suddenly and slumps to the ground. Other figures begin to scatter. The battle begins.

Ella Normandy has posed:
    On the dive, Vampirella's wings tuck back. It's obvious to any fool she's coming in too high, will probably splatter them both against the building two stories above the shattered window, but then her wings being to shrink and the straight line of their dive becomes a vertiginous downward arc. It's worse because it's headfirst: if she'd been alone, Vampirella could have angled to land on her feet, but with her weight more than doubled by Shen's presence, the aerodynamics demand the kind of speed only face-first falls can accomplish.

    But Vampirella has decades of experience coming in through high windows into people's bedrooms. She twists into the hard landing, taking the impact with her shoulder. Shattered plate glass carves her flesh so neatly the blood doesn't even start to well for several seconds, as if it's too shocked to even notice it should be leaving her skin. She rolls in a tight circle, arms around Shen, killing fingers around his neck to protect the sensitive arteries from any mischievous shards of glass jutting up in the roll. After three full turns, she drops him onto the carpet and makes a fourth tumble from which she rises to her toes, hair tangled and skin running a hundred thin trickles of blood from already closing wounds.

    Her scarlet eyes scan for the nearest enemy, the nearest person working for her tormentor, and land on a man trying to unlimber his SMG from its strap on his shoulder. She pounces mercilessly. His body armor is thick; her claws could pierce it, but it's easier to take him in the femoral artery, spraying pints of his life in a dark liquid fan that sends him into shock almost immediately. She doesn't bother watching him fall, instead glaring around the room for another target. Innocent or not, everyone will know before she's done that if you cast your lot with those who would harm her, your life will end.

Shen Kuei has posed:
Shen has seconds thoughts for a moment, considering how much of his very valuable and coveted life he has placed in the hands of Vampirella. Perhaps his thirst for saving face and evening the score wasn't the most prudent course action. Oh well, he was in the thick of it now. He comes through the shattered in a considerably better state thanks to the combination of Vampirella's protection, and the thick leather of his trench coat. When he's deposited on the carpet, he rolls expertly with the momentum. Completion a revolution, he springs once more into the air and pivots his body. A high kick with a heavy combat boot clocks one man on the temple instantly rendering him unconscious. A pair of men raising their SMGs immediately dive for cover as Shen unloads his wielded pistol while reaching for a second.

One man is unarmed and immediately ducks into the attached bedroom. A large bodyguard replaces him, a combat shotgun wielded. Three more men fill in from what must have been the kitchen, unholstering pistols from underarm holsters.

Glass clinks, scatters, and crunches beneath boots and feet. Profanities are screamed in Cantonese. Bullets begin to rain in both Shen and Vampirella's direction. Shen dives into a roll using a couch to obscure line of sight to his position.

Ella Normandy has posed:
    Vampirella is already diving for cover behind the kitchen island before the men come in. Her hearing as almost useless now, every bullet fired is deafeningly loud to her supernatural senses and makes her head feel likes it's trapped in a giant vise, but she can smell her targets on the other side of the island; fools who don't bother getting their weapons in hand before attacking. They must have been truly unprepared for her vengeance. More fools them, then.

    She skitters around the edge of her cover to circle to her assailants and is among them in a flash of black hair and red silk. The first guard has no time to scream as she takes him through the left eye, impaling his brain. His body twitches and spasms, firing two rounds into the floor as it drops from her gore-soaked hand. The second yells as he's tackled into his companion, the two of them falling with nearly comical expressions of surprise on their faces slowly morphing into dismay and fear as her hooked talons free the blood from the top man's throat. The third can't speak as the impact drives the wind from his lungs in a sour-smelling cloud of adrenaline and norepinephrine, but he has time to mouth the word "please" before his neck snaps under her monstrous hands. She feels as much pity for him as a hawk feels for the rabbit that will feed its hatchlings.

Shen Kuei has posed:
Shen performs a rather impressive for for a mere human. He reaches over the back of the couch, clutching it with trained grip strength. He rocks backwards, his boots planting into the back of the piece of furniture. His legs coil and then with an explosion of force, he launches the couch at the large bodyguard. There's heavy thud of impact as the bodyguard is knocked off his feet, shotgun clattering to the ground. Shen handsprings to his feet. Darts forward and performs a cartwheel to retrieve the loaded shotgun, his pistols having been discarded when empty.

There's a gruesome eruption as Shen plants a slug into the head of the large dazed man, grey matter spraying the nearby walls. He peeks his head into the bedroom then immediately pivots back to cover as rounds from a heavier caliber assault rifle riddle the doorframe. He runs, the spray following him through the drywall. He dives covering his head, as the bullet spray passes him, then rolls to his side and sends a few slugs through the wall, which likewise force his assailant to dive for cover on the other side of the wall. It only takes a few shots for Shen to have a porthole.

Ella Normandy has posed:
    Shen didn't yell that the fleeing man is Xiatong or not, but there can only be so many people in this apartment who aren't him; and even if it's not, the clock is ticking on their ability to escape this assault, so Vampirella charges after him. Her speed and her silence in those boots is eerie. The bedroom inside is larger than Vampirella's entire apartment, filled with all the treasures of a long life of success and privilege, expensive trinkets from far-off countries hung on the walls next to accolades and plaques, with pictures of self and family scattered about not quite at random on desks so no matter where one looks, one will see a reminder of loved ones. Vampirella observes, with no emotional attachment to the thought, that it's rather heartwarming to see. She wonders if his family is here and if she should kill them, but there will be time to think about that later.

Shen Kuei has posed:
Vampirella will find a man similar in age to Shen positioned behind a large California king. The head board has a few massive holes where shotgun slugs have impacted with near misses. He is currently in the process of reloading a QBZ-95, its a bullpup design, very standard for Chinese military. He gazes upwards toward Vampirella and screams at her in Cantonese, which she may or may not understand. "You stupid bitch! You were supposed to kill him!"

A clip locks into place and the rifle is raised toward the vampiress. The scream resumes as he pulls the trigger.

Shen meanwhile can only assume that Xiatong is about to have a violent conclusion to his life. He rolls to his feet and discards the shotgun. Bending over, he retrieves and reloads his twin pistols. Detecting movement out of the corner of his eyes, he pivots and opens fire, finishing a man making a last minute reach for a discarded firearm. He frowns and murmurs, "I really hate guns."

Ella Normandy has posed:
    Assault rifles. Ugh. Vampirella isn't faster than a bullet; she's just faster than most humans can aim. A gun that pumps out several rounds per second severely cuts her advantage, but at least assault rifles are hard to aim with the way they keep jackhammering the shoulder they're socketed into. The gun is against Xiatong's right shoulder, so she dives to his left, letting the pneumatic pummeling twist his body in the wrong direction while she hits the floor on splayed fingers and knees. Her toes bend and slide forward, coming under her, becoming a springboard from which she flings herself at her new target, tackling him hard. If he has any presence of mind, it might occur to him to wonder why she's wrestling his gun away rather than tearing out his throat and being done with it, but it can be hard to ask yourself those kinds of questions while pinned against a wall by a vampire's weight while surrounding by the smells of spent gunpowder and human innards, so she wouldn't hold a failure of perspicacity against him.

Shen Kuei has posed:
Shen steps into the bedroom as Vampirella seizes advantage. He attempts a few manoeuvres to retain his weapon, movements that against a normal opponent would have provided enough leverage to free the weapon. However, again Vampirella, these mundane attempts fall short. The weapon is stripped from his hands. He holds his hands up, his eyes full of terror. When Shen comes into view, that terror becomes hatred.

"You! You were supposed to die, Kuei. The plan was perfect. How could you have possibly come out of this unscathed?" He growls.

Shen cocks a half-smirk removing his safety glasses. He folds them and tucks them away. "I listened to my teachers, and improved upon their lessons, Xiatong. While you only did what was expected of you, I exceeded. Whatever difference that has created between us, it was enough to survive the fury of the lethal woman before you... and to ultimately arrange an alliance of convenience. Now, welcome to the end."

Ella Normandy has posed:
    This close to Xiatong, he can't resist noticing the unholy heat in her body as she sandwiches him against the wall. Humans losing blood get colder; vampires get hotter. She glances at Shen. "Is there anything you want to know from him, before it's too late?" She's not squeamish about admitting she's going to kill him, but phrasing it uncertainly like that can loosen lips sometimes. No harm playing the game as long as she plays it quickly.

Shen Kuei has posed:
Shen considers this for a moment and walks up to Vampirella and Xiatong. He stares at the man for a long time then abruptly smashes a fist into his nose. With a flick of the wrist, he flecks off droplets of blood that had deposited on his knuckles. Xiatong groans audibly, the fist has both obliterated his nose and caved much of his cheekbone structure. "I'll take his laptop with me when we leave. Given enough time, I'm sure I'll be able to extract some useful information. Do as you will, I will not have him bartering for his life. It.. has lasted long enough."

Ella Normandy has posed:
    Vampirella doesn't drink like a mosquito. She tears a hole in a throat, then lets the blood flood her mouth. Luo Xiatong's life floods into her belly and the metaphysical hole lying beneath it, beating back the constant erosion of death at her entropic core by filling her with red, steaming existence. With life come's life's memories, vague nearly to the point of dreams but potent in their emotional resonance; not even images but senses of a parent's love, pride in a son, hate for an enemy (this borrowed rage nearly makes her want to turn on Shen but for the sublime pleasure of finally healing herself from the decay of existence). Senses of routines, the patterns of behaviors he built his life around, the mundane rituals of ablution and consumption but also the more refined processes of interaction with others. Dark Mother, but even the worst human life is so pure and joyous compared to the cacophony of pain and hate her usual demonic prey feels...

    The power coursing through her doesn't just close the tiny cuts from the the plate glass, heal the throbbing in her outraged eardrums, smooth her skin, cause her war form to shrink back down to its smaller, suppler default. It even somehow smoothes the tangle of her black hair, gently untying the knots left in it by her acrobatics, restoring its brilliant luster.

    Then Luo Xiatong is gone to whatever lies beyond this life for him and his, and Vampirella is left with her mouth sealed to a hole in a dead piece of meat. She drops it and steps back, turning away from Shen as she brings her hand to her mouth, wiping away the last bits of blood, composing herself (for she's shivering in repressed ecstasy) while he hopefully remembers to do what he must, what she can't: destroy the curse she might have passed on to his body.

Shen Kuei has posed:
Shen is brutal and efficient. With a deft hand, he flares open his trench-coat, spins to gather momentum and drives the stake into Luo Xiatong's sternum. He then chambers a leg and straight kicks the stake until it impales the remains of Luo into the drywall behind him. Shen releases an audible sigh then adjusts the collar of his trench coat. "And finally, it is done."

Shen takes a moment to watch Vampirella in a new light for the first time. The marvellous effect Luo's lifeforce takes upon her visage is difficult to ignore. With no immediate risk to his life present, he allows his thoughts to linger briefly on the more carnal.

A shake of the head revives his focus, he walks to a nearby desk and closes the laptop upon it. He borrows Luo's carrying case and slips the laptop away before slinging the strap over his shoulder. Finally, he turns to face Vampirella. "Time for us to leave. The police cannot be far behind."

He walks past her into the living room and calls over his shoulder, "As anyone ever called you 'Beautifully Lethal'?" He looks over the carnage, the remnants of abrupt and fierce violence. "How many men have been surprised by the fury of a woman with your sensual appearance? A devious weapon."

Ella Normandy has posed:
    Vampirella is still trembling with the rush of borrowed passions and stolen pleasure when Shen addresses her. The coldness at her core is ever-present, and it's calm enough to identify all the reasons her planned next move is a bad idea, all the reasons it will make her life harder; to remind her that when the bill comes due, she will not be able to tell herself she didn't know what she was buying.

    But she's drunk on life and doesn't care about tomorrow or even three seconds from now. When Shen turns to face her, she's close enough for him to smell the unique perfume of her skin, to see the reflection of his face in her widely dilated pupils, to see the V-shaped arteries in her throat throbbing with life and excitement. Her fingers curl around the back of his head and neck, and there's just enough time to wonder whether this is passion or murder before she steps into him so hard her ribs creak against his in her embrace as she kisses him hard, even mannishly, though her caressing fingers are soft and teasing. One foot steps forward and curls around the back of his calf, making the embrace tightly intimate. Her breath is hot and rapid against his cheeks.

    Then, as bizarrely as it began, the kiss is over, and Shen is cradled in her arms as she pitches herself out the window, wings growing and spreading in glorious, crackling pain to catch the night wind and carry the pair off to the safety of a rooftop far away.

Shen Kuei has posed:
Another first for Shen Kuei. He is caught off guard by the passion of the kiss, evidently underestimated what effect the blood feast might have the woman. He cannot claim it's unpleasant though he had never been kissed so forcefully by a woman. His body is firm, strong honed musculature pressing against her ribs as their mouths meet. After the initial shock fades from his mind, he brings her into his embrace. His fingertips drawing over the small of her back.

In a blur of movement, he's once more cradled and carried off, as if he were the damsel. There's only a momentary hint of annoyance, similar to a feline, where he is resentful not to be under his own locomotion. However, the convenience of this method transport is noted. His concerns regarding the police fade away.

When they arrive at the rooftop, he rolls out of her grasp to stand. He stretches and offers Vampirella an amused smirk. "Take my breath away and then whisk me away through the night. Despite losing two safehouses this mouth, I have say I'm finding it hard having any kind of regret."