8603/Dracul Rising: Scarlet Streets

Dracul Rising: Scarlet Streets
Date of Scene:	15 November 2021
Location:	Forgotten Neighborhood near Queens, New York City
Synopsis:	The Heliopolitans stumble upon the remainders of a feeding ground for vampires. The clean up crew ambushes them and the Heliopolitans are victorious, with only minor casualties inflicted upon the team.
Cast of Characters:	Marc Spector, Jonathan Sims, Jubilation Lee, Phoebe Beacon, Lydia Dietrich, Morrigan MacIntyre, Tim Drake

---

Marc Spector has posed:
    Sometime during the past week, two individuals, (namely Morrigan and Jubilee,) would find small white boxes at their places of residence with letters attached to them. The letters would read: 'In the event that The Fist of Khonshu requires your assistance. -- Mr. Knight.' Inside the boxes were small silvery earpieces. No other information was given about the earbuds and for the rest of the weekened they were silent.

    Then, without warning, a small buzz comes over the earpieces of all the Heliopolitans and the voice of Moon Knight, a resonant baritone with an authoritative cadence, comes through the comms. An address is given, somewhere in the low end residential section of Queens, and instructions to gather and await further instructions.

    Upon arrival at the location given it appears to be an empty office building across the street from a dilapidated squat building that looks like it might've been an automotive repair business sometime in the past 30 years.

    The door to the office building is unlocked, in fact, it's hanging slightly ajar as if inviting those who pass it by to enter within. The inside is bare with only concrete walls and support pillars breaking up the monotony of the place. It appears to be silent and empty.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jonathan Sims arrived swiftly, not least because he was already in the area; Monday is one of his days in the office. He stands just outside the unlocked and ajar door, waiting for the others to arrive. He's wearing his 'psychiatrist' gear, green sweater and brown jacket and black slacks, but he carries the ankh-topped staff Moon Knight gave him.

    He fiddles with the bracer on his wrist but doesn't twist it just yet, nervous to actually properly become the Archivist given what happened the last time. A moment of concentration is all it takes to open his Sight however, and he scans the street. A malaise of fear and pain, wayward ghosts. Nothing stands out.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    Don't let anyone say that the gifts of the vampire are all grotesque. In this case, Jubilation's hearing was enhanced enough so that she was able to hear the call of the voice while the earbud was unceremoniously left on the coffee table back in the apartment she has been forced into back at school. Did Mr. Knight really expect her to just be wearing it? Seriously? Still, he was nice to her and, sometimes, that's enough to get Jubilation to make the trek into the city.

    "What's that?" Jubilee asks, blurring into view just over Jonathan's shoulder, staring down at the bracer on the man's wrist. She's dressed in a yellow tanktop with a plunging neckline, daisy duke jean shorts over black tights, and a pair of Vans sneakers. A purple JanSport backpack hangs over her shoulder.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Well, Phoebe was never one to leave well enough alone. When she had gotten the message, she had let the Cabbie Dad know where she was going, and went to investigate.

    When she arrives, it's astride a matte black cafe rider motorcycle, wearing a dull gray biker jacket with a yellow stripe down the left front side, backpack and thighbag equipped. She parks in a handy back area, and comes around the building, checking her gear a moment. Throwing knives. Switchblade. Salt and black salt and tightening those red fingerless gloves over her hands before she lifts her gaze and looks to Jon.

    "... no rest for anyone, I see." she states dryly to the Archivist.
    Jubilee, though, gets a warm smile.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia gets a curious buzzing from the silvery earpiece that Moon Knight had handed her not too long ago. Hearing Moon Knight's voice, she turns to her lover, Mystique, and gives her a peck on the cheek. "Have to go, sweetness. Evil is afoot." For this outing she decides to dress the part of Vampire Detective, wearing black slacks, a burgundy button up blouse and a charcoal grey trenchcloak. Around her neck is a pendant, a silver ankh inlaid with moonstone scarab. As always, her mutant power, ash black flakes of ectoplasm, constantly fall around her.

She arrives at the address directly, stepping through a purple portal and sees that Jon is already here. "Good evening, Jon," she calls out to him. "What's the situation?"

She takes a curious sniff of the air and wrinkles her nose. "Smells like piss out here," she remarks. Another sniff and she's able to detect something.... else. Her eyes go towards the auto shop. "Over there, however. Blood and death. Not fresh, though. Been there for a while."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"I feel like I'm on call for the hospital...maybe this is very much the same." Morrigan had muttered to herself after the call. Masters of the mystic had easy ways to travel if they didn't want to draw attention to themselves and that is exactly what Morrigan doesn't want in case there is something else happening. There is a moment taken to locate the area and then she steps through to the other side. The gathering was a bit weird, but she wasn't visible at the moment so she wasn't expecting to give anyone a start.

Not yet at least.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Despite what texts he and Phoebe may have exchanged after they were both summoned by the Call, Tim doesn't exactly think himself as a servant of Khonshu (or a servant of a servant of Khonshu, as the case may be). He's just... someone who wants to help, and if the Midnight Mission is a way he can do that separate to his various nighttime activities in costume, then he can't in good conscience say no.

    But he's also not the type to just trust right off the bat, so when he gets home, he sets up in the manufacturing lab and takes apart the earpiece Moon Knight gave him. It's an impressive little piece of tech, and Tim's own familiarity with communication units--he custom-designed the ones for the Outsiders--tells him that this is no commercial off-the-shelf type of item.

    Interesting. But he gets it hooked into his system so that he won't risk missing a summons when he's busy elsewhere. Which he would have tonight, otherwise, because he's scampering across the Gotham rooftops. He gets a tag on the car he's been trailing, and then heads back to home base for a shower and change of clothes.

    So he's definitely not the first arrival on the scene, but he does arrive. Jacket, hoodie, button-down plaid shirt, jeans and a good pair of boots. With a hat pulled low over his forehead he's pretty much indistinguishable from any other random civilian taking an evening walk. But then he comes to stand astride Phoebe, and nudges her lightly with an elbow in hello.

Marc Spector has posed:
    After a few moments Moon Knight's voice comes over the comms again. "Good. I think this is a sizable enough group. First off, Jonathan Sims is in charge of this investigative mission. Listen to his directions and please try to work together. Loose cannons get people killed, or in the case of a few of you who don't fear death anymore, permenantly obliterated." He lets that sink in for a moment before contining.

    "The automotive repair shop across the street was about to be destroyed last week when interior demolitions found a mass grave in the basement level. Upwards of 30 corpses were within. All were in various stages of decay but most seemed to be husk-like in appearance. Drained of their blood." Another pause.

    "I want you to go in. Ignore the offical warnings." He scoffs over the comm. "The police would likely get killed when and *if* they ever figure this one out. Examine the site--the corpses are no longer there, do not worry--collect any clues as to the nature of the vampires--if they are indeed vampires--who committed the act, and depart."

    It sounds simple enough but their number and the nature of their abilities might give some pause as to just how simple it could be. After all, six people for an investigative job seems a touch overkill.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon... /blinks/ at the comm. Wait, /he's/ in charge?! "Wh--bu--Ma--" No, no, that won't do. He'll have to at least /project/ competence. So he turns to look around at the group. Smirks at Tim, nods at Phoebe. The others he knew about.

    "Right. Well. I don't think everyone's been introduced, so please feel free to do that." He's regarding the automotive repair shop across the street now, brow furrowed slightly. "Someone see if they can pull up any information on the place. Is it known gang territory, that kind of thing. Everyone else, please speak up about what you see--or smell." He gives Lydia and then Jubilee a grin.

    Then he squares his shoulders and heads on across the street, trusting the others will follow.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    When Lydia approaches and greets Jon, and Jon alone, Jubilation's expression flatens. She gives the other vampiress a look -- so be it, it says -- and tilts her head in Phoebe's direction. "One. Two. Two wheels! A motorcycle!?" she questions excitedly. "Gimme that turkey, girl!" She holds up the palm of her hand for Phoebe to high-five or 'turkey' should she choose. Her eyes lower to fixate on Tim and his elbow nudging against Phoebe. The gesture gets an amused smile. She's about to say something but, instead, goes wide-eyed with shock.

    Jubilee pulls the earpiece out of her ear quickly as the voice rings out. It's too much sound for her supernatural hearing. When the instructions stop, she shoves the piece back in and looks at the others with slight suspicion. "I know what you're thinking and it wasn't me," Jubilee affirms, though her gaze lifts to study Lydia. 'Was it you?' she mouths silently.

    When Jon calls for introductions, Jubilation glances around -- Tim is really the only one whose name she never got -- and waves her hand in the air. "Jubilation. Jubilee if you like that better," she announces before following Jon across the street. When the Archivist calls for a smell-report, the bridge of Jubilation's nose wrinkles. "...I mean, you want the good news or the bad news?" Jubilee starts. "The good news is there's lots of blood in there. O negative. B positive. You name it, it's in there. The /bad/ news is that it's all, like, gross and old. What a /waste/..." She frowns and looks at the others for any commiseration on this.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Jubes, don't tell me you inherited obsessive counting from your Ill-Begot and probably asshole curse-sire!" Phoebe grins, and she does, indeed, 'turkey' the high-five, because it's funny and it makes her smile. Much easier to pretend to be sunshiney on the outside. Phoebe gives a smile, sidelong to the jostle at her elebow as she looks to one of Gotham's favorite sons, and she leans lightly into him in recognition, looking to the Bat-in-Hiding. with a side-eyed grin and a little nod of her head to her bestie. She takes a deep breath, and then turns her gaze upwards, listining to Moon Knight in her ear. She gives a narrow of her eyes at some of the information, and she considers. "Should have brought some dreamroot. Or maybe morning glory tincture -- wouldn't last as long with me though unless--" she trails off a moment in thought, going a bit pensive as she wrinkles her nose at the other ideas floating around her head, and she looks around at the group.

    "Don't suppose any of you have a golden bowl and the full Sumerian incantation in a back pocket, no?" she asks in half amusement. She's tired. And giddy. And she goes to cross the street, looking both ways since it was (probably) not Lydia that left the mess.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
When Tim rolls up at first Lydia doesn't recognize him, but when he goes and stands besides Phoebe it suddenly hits her who he is. "Tim? What are you doing here?" Obviously he heard the call of Khonshu, but what kind of skills would the adopted son of playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne could possibly have?

Then Moon Knight is on the comms and explains the situation. "Vampires," she says disdainfully. Even though she is one herself, and Jubilee is considered one of the 'good ones' the majority of the others that she's met have been less than good. Speaking of the other vampire, the kind of pissy territorial fits that she's had with her seem to be absent on this neutral ground. Good. It'll make things a lot easier.

"Wasn't me," she tells Jubilee, grinning at the jab. "Two weeks old, by the smell of it," she says, confirming the other vampire's summation.

"I'm going to head inside and see what kind of scents I can pick up." She takes a moment to concentrate, and when she's done, the ectoplasmic aura contracts around her and her form shudders as she drops down on all fours in the form of a huge black wolf. She gives everybody a look that asks the silent question, 'Who's coming with?' and pads across the street, nudging the door open further for her furry form to fit through.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan listens to the voice over the comms and there's a bit of a headshake. Thankfully she can't be seen by others at the moment. Though Moon Knight's talk of loose cannons getting people killed makes her sigh softly and drop the cloaking spell. Which means she's in back of the group when she appears, "I can probably get a look at the bodies if that information would help." the Irish woman offers.

Then she falls silent and waits for others to lead. "I can collect some samples and run tests. Just to make sure what else might have been going on or just to fill boredom really." she mentions with a chuckle in a quieter tone as she heads across the street.

Tim Drake has posed:
    As soon as Tim hears the word "investigative" he's on the move. He flashes a quick hand-sign to Phoebe--basically, brb--as he jogs away at a light clip, soon enough disappearing around the corner. It's a brief trip, and those with enhanced senses will hear the open and close of a car trunk from nearby. When he returns, he has a backpack slung over his shoulder.

    One of several that he'd packed. Had to prepare for several different possibilities, given the amount of unknowns. At least this one's in his wheelhouse, relatively speaking.

    He's back, and not even winded, before Moon Knight has finished his spiel. "Tim," he says, because that's his name, and he offers a quick wave to the group in general, though it's really just for Jubilee's benefit at the moment since Morrigan hasn't appeared yet. Though he does blink owlishly at Lydia's surprise. "Probably because of my super power."

    Pause for dramatic effect.

    "Money. My super power is money. Anyway, if you want us to do some old-fashioned investigation," and here he nods to Morrigan in acknowledgment, one science nerd to another (even if said other science nerd can just appear out of nowhere), "I have gloves. Unless that... interferes with any magical sensing, I suppose." For a moment, as he considers that, Tim's eyes narrow at the building across the way as he takes up a new position at Jon's side, almost unconsciously backing up their 'leader'. Huh. Wonder where that instinct comes from.

    Moving on.

    "It's been on the chopping block since 2008 when the shop closed down, but because of a massive wall of red tape and poor city planning, it hasn't actually yet been destroyed. Something to do with how the sewer line runs beneath the building." Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and pokes his tongue into the inside of his cheek as he scrolls. "As far as my internet research can find, there isn't any," oh look at that Lydia's a wolf now, "Signs of gang activity here. Mostly it's just been police bothering the homeless population who've tried to set up camp inside."

    Then he turns his backpack around so it's hanging against his front, and rifles through one of the exterior pockets. After a moment, he flaps a sealed bag containing a pair of disposable gloves in Morrigan's direction.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Breaking the police "crime scene" tape is simple enough and the door to the place isn't even capable of latching from the number of times it's been jimmied open. It's almost pitch dark within. After lights are provided (or eyes adjust for some), the inside of the shop looks about as one would expect the inside of an abandoned auto shop would look after 13 years of dissuse. There is a lot of rusted metal, dirt, and garbage inside. There are a few barrels, rusted out and charred, and a number of folding lawn chairs strewn about; likely evidence of the homeless who have tried to make this place at least shelter from the elements.

    The scent of blood and death is stronger as the party moves furher toward the back of the building. It's strong enough that those without superhuman senses can even catch a whiff of it on the air. The tang of it adds to the rusted iron and garbage smell of the shop's facilities.

    The source of the smell is from the gaping hole in the floor at the back of the shop. Rubble has fallen enough to provide a makeshift ramp down to the lower level and while the bodies are no longer there, where they *had been* is plain if the brown and black stain covering a circle with a diameter of about 25 feet in the corner of the basement is any indicator. There are scraps of clothing and more detritus in the basement, obviously the police thought such things beyond their notice as pertinent to the crime scene.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon glances over at Phoebe. Deadpan: "I left my Sumerican incantations in my other jacket." Then he smiles, though it's weary. At least she's keeping busy, right?

    He blinks as Morrigan... materializes, but nods respectfully to her. "I'm sure Moon Knight would appreciate getting the bodies but let's focus on the shop first. If you could collect samples, that would be excellent." His gazes slides to Jubilee as he follows Lydia on into the building. "Gross and old, two weeks. And you're certain it's just red tape on that, Tim?" It's a rhetorical question, really; for whatever reason he trusts that Tim would know.

    And then they're inside, and he actually stops and clutches at the bracer on his left wrist. "This is what this does, Jubilation," he says, and twists the bracer. There's a dark green glow, deep emerald, from the bracer, and then his eyes are glowing green as he looks around the room.

    And recoils.

    "What in the bloody /hell/...?" Whatever he's Seeing, he doesn't like it.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    The shine in Jubilation's eyes fades slightly at the mention of the one who turned her into what she is, but she plays along well enough. "Oh, no, I just wanted to give your motorcycle -- the coolest of all transportation methods -- the reverence it so rightly deserves, Pheebs!" She grins a little, exposing her fangs in the process. She either can't retract them, forgot how, or doesn't care to hide them. "Sorry, I left my Summer-Aryan lotion in my----" Jubilee stops. Not only did Jon get to it first, Jon got it right. Sumerian, Jubes, Sumerian!

    Lydia's tone when she says 'vampires' earns a look of concern from Jubilee. What will Lydia do if there /are/ vampires? Jubilee's own view is one of nuance. After all, innocent until proven guilty, right? Still, anyone with keen hearing would know that the girl's purple backpack contains wooden stakes, given the noise they make when they bang against each other as she moves.

    "Oh, so, it's going to be like that..." Jubilee mutters as she watches Lydia transform into a wolf, a look of disgust apparent on her features. "You know how some vampires are, like, super sexy and all that and some of them are all, uh... like...like that..." Jubilee points her finger at the tail end of that wolf, glancing at Jon. "Looks like we've got one of each on this little mission," she stage-whispers at the Archivist, trotting along next to him. The sudden activation of his bracer distracts Jubilee enough as she steps inside. "...Ooooh, check /that/ out... Green is /totally/ your color, Jon-Without-An-H...." Jubilee's enthusiasm fades after a moment or so inside the garage, however. Her voice slows. "Um... So, like..." She stares at the stain. That large, delicious-looking stain. "Um..." Jubilee's tongue pokes out of her mouth and drags against her lips. "I..." She reaches up and rakes her fingers through her hair and turns away from the group.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Take your time, Jubilee." Phoebe states comfortingly to the other supernatural teen. She turns her gaze over to Jubilee, and then she narrows her eyes a moment at the bloodstain on the floor -- but Jon's got the vision part down. She stands off to the side, crossing her arms a moment as she looks over the mess of blood, and then walks closer to Jubilee. She reaches out, and places a hand on her shoulder, and then looks back out over the stain.

    "My motorcycle's pretty cool. If you ever wanted to take a ride some night, my helmet's hooked up with some nerd tech to make it safer to ride it at night. Took my new little sister on it the other day to go out for ice cream." she comments, trying to distract Jubes from the thoughts of all that blood staining the floor.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
A snort of amusement comes from the large black wolf as Tim reveals his superpower, and Jubilee gets a huff for her crack. "I'm totally super sexy," Lydia says. "A super sexy wolf. You wouldn't be able to tell, of course."

Then when she's inside, it's nose down to snuffle up the scents. She starts in the general area, avoiding the pool of dried blood for now. It's easier to pull the scents away from the blood to identify. It's mostly what you'd expect from a place where the homeless have crashed for shelter. Burnt garbage from the barrels, human waste and decay, and the very faint scent of motor oil back when this place was in operation.

Then she turns to the hole where the bodies have been found and the dried blood. The smell of blood is nearly overpowering to the wolf. This much is enough to make her start to feel hungry, which is never good, though the blood here is old and stale. She closes her eyes and concentrates using some of the power that her blood gives her to stamp down the hunger pangs.

Eventually she gives up and flows back into her human form so she can hold the wool sleeve of her trenchcloak over her nose. "It's all blood." she says. "I thought I detected something else there. Almost like ink, but it's unlike any ink I know." If anybody knows what different kinds of ink smells like it would be the author.

"I need to get some fresh air," she says, turning to make her way back outside to try to clear her nose from the heady smell of blood. With so much of it it's hard to think of anything other than feeding right now and she needs a moment to collect herself.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a look to a few things and then there's a gentle frown, who might be doing this? One may never know. She catches the gloves that are flapped her way, "Thank you, Tim." she tells him as she unbags them and puts them on. "They won't interfere with magic." she assures him.

Everything was old down here, it was a mess. "Oh that's a smell you'll have to scrub out." she tells them. She's smelled death before and it never gets any easier. Old blood however does not tickle her fancy and she steps gently to see where might be a good place to start collecting samples while others do their thing.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "As far as I've been able to discover," Tim reports. "But I can't quite throw my weight around here like I can in Gotham, so there's a real possibility I've missed something."

    That and, well, he and his Gotham allies have pre-existing backdoor access to a great deal of the government servers in Gotham. Very much less so than in NYC. But only Phoebe would know that's part of the reason why he can't give some kind of guarantee with his information.

    So far Tim's reacted to a great deal of supernatural-slash-mystical (is there a difference?) happenings with what is basically a series of non-reactions. He's very much rolling with the punches here. Vampires, invisibility spells, people turning into animals, even the Archivist's new glamour trick.

    It's all fine.

    Once Morrigan accepts the sterile gloves, Tim pulls out another pair for himself, as well as a flashlight. No nightvision for him, nope, though thanks to his aforementioned super power, it's the kind of flashlight that, when he pushes a button, flips from regular LED light to UV light.

    Which he promptly aims at the pool of blood. "It's blood," he says flatly, as if anyone needed that conformation. Then he crouches down to take a closer look. "Ink?" From his position low to the ground, Tim turns to watch Lydia depart. His brow furrows, and he makes a mental note to reach out to her at a later point. Clearly he's out of the loop.

    But for now, he returns to the investigation.

    "Hard to tell what that smell might be caused by. Most inks are a fairly complex mix of solvents, pigments, surfectants and the like. It depends on what kind of viscosity and appearance the manufacturer is aiming for." He pauses for a moment of contemplation. "Aniline dye, maybe?"

Marc Spector has posed:
    There isn't much to collect, a few samples of the remains of the fluid of the stain. Some small fibers that don't seem to match the clothing or anything else in the room. There are a few broken fingernails at the base of one of the far walls, along with ten streaks of dried blood. It looks like someone was trying to escape by clawing their way through the concrete if they had to. They likely didn't make it.

    When the ambush comes it comes without warning. "Now!" hisses an sibilant voice and six dark shapes simply materialize from the shadows. They come in two varieties. Three of them are hulking and bestial looking creatures, their gaunt faces, long ragged looking nails, sallow features and scaps of clothing hanging from their forms make them look more like massive PED corpses than anything living. The last three are more regal and statuesque. Their skin is more like alabaster and their features are more normal in proportion and shape. Their clothing is just as ragged though, perhaps moreso since the period of style looks more 18th century than the modern cut and make of the 21st century.

    They all carry the scent of blood and death on them and they all have long pointed canine fangs.

    The four hulking creatures rush in almost random directions. One lunges for Tim, ragged nails that look more like claws swipe at the favored son of Gotham with bone crushing force behind the swing.

    Another comes at Jubilee. It moves forward with surprising speed for something its size, fists clenched together for an overhead hammerblow that is sure to end with Jubilee becoming paste--if it connects.

    The last of the hulking ones lunges at the departing Lydia. Its arms are outstretched, looking as if it wants to grab the authorial vampiress. A groan that only vaguely resembles a voice croaks out from it, "Interlopers..." it moans in rage. "We eat you!"

    The three regal looking ones don't so much move as their forms bleed into the ground looking more like ink than physical things. One reappears across from Jon and tilts its head at him. "I know that Look" he hisses. "Archivist..." it whispers, hatred dripping in the word before it flings out a hand. Inky blackness lashes at the Archivist like a whip. There is a sense of cold and the grave and absolute darkness in the lash.

    Another materializes across from Phoebe and flings it's arms wide before her. A wave of the freezing absolute darkness washes from the figure, looking to engulf the teen in its path unless something is done to prevent it.

    The final of the three appears apart from Morrigan. "Half-breed filth!" it hisses and contorts its arms in a stange alien gesture, motes of dark purple fire appear around it and begin to dance and rotate about the form. The creature grabs one of the balls of magic--for it is indeed magic--and flings it at Morrigan. "I will erase your blight from this city!" it hisses in its snakelike tone.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The Archivist is caught off-guard by the recognition. It's not the first time something's recognized him, but it's still surprising. It's enough to let the vampire's lash hit him, passing through the sweater and connecting with his chest, sending him staggering back a step. /Ow/.

    "Lydia, Jubilee, shield yourselves from Phoebe's Light!" Tim and Morrigan--that he knows of--don't need to worry about Phoebe's Light. And he trusts them all to be able to fight monsters.

    He did something the other day, on instinct, and he remembers it now. It's a bit clumsier relying only on normal memory rather than muscle memory, but nonetheless he twirls the staff in his hands and points it at the vampire that recognized him, sending a bolt of energy at the being.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    While others might see this place as a disgusting tribute to something horrible, Jubilee knows the truth of it. It's the most delicious crime scene anyone has ever come upon in the history of human achievement. How could anyone even carry on a conversation here? Still, a ride on a motorcycle sounds /fun/. Blood. New little sister. That's an interesting little detail, right? Blood. Ice cream... What did that--BLOOD. Jubilation seems to shrink a little under Phoebe's touch, her eyes squinting. "Not going to lie to you, Pheebs," Jubilee mutters. "I'm ready to lick that floor."

    When Lydia breezes past to free herself from the smell, Jubilation's head turns to watch. That look of disgust and gentle rivalry fades to one of empathy and, perhaps, even concern. She's about to say something but then... UGH. Jubilee raises her hand and covers her face, trying her best to shield herself from the UV light cast by Tim's flashlight. "Easy with that thing, Professor Science!" Jubilation calls out, eyes squinting, brow winkled into a frown.

    When the trap is sprung, Jubilation's first reaction is to try and reason with the emerging figures. "Right, so, like, we're not /blaming/ you or anything but...." The overhead hammerblow is enough to interrupt her attempts to establish diplomatic relations. "Quick decision!" Jubilee shouts as she swings her leg around to try to deliver a kick sooner than the hulking vampire can deliver his hammerblow. She's spent the last few weeks preparing for this kind of scenario in the Danger Room back at Xavier's, with special permission, but the setting was always a mall and the feral vampires were always Orange Julius employees...

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Blood and Death. The stench may never leave her nose at this point. Where Phoebe had given a sympathetic look to Jubilee, and had squeezed on her shoulder gently before releasing her to try and encourage her to take a breath of fresh air, suddenly with the trap sprung, she had gone into defense mode. Phoebe tucks and shoulder-rolls away from the hammer blow with far less grace than what Jubes would have moved with -- but hey, shes only human.

    Phoebe narrows her eyes as she breathes out as she faces down the encroaching cold of death, and she waits until the last possible minute before she lights up, the circles on her hands brightening with their overlay of sigils as light pools in her hands, sun-like brilliance pushed to the cold and dark form!

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia is too distracted in trying to get the cloying scent of blood out of her nose to have noticed being ambushed by a hulking vampire. She squeaks in surprise as she's grabbed from behind and lifted off her feet. Her eyes turn red and her fangs extend, and she can feel the blood within her quicken as her body prepares for combat.

"You'll find me quite unappetizing," She tells the monster behind her when suddenly ectoplasmic spikes shoot out from her skin, turning her into an undead hedgehog. (Not literally. She hasn't mastered hedgehog form yet.)

There's something about the power that these vampires are wielding that echoes within her. Her power was once fueled by faith, but once awakened by her coven, she could feel a different kind of energy spring forth from it. This is the same energy, but black and twisted, bent to evil will.

"I'll be okay!" She shouts back at Jon and Phoebe. "Don't wait for me! Get these bastards!" Still. She prepares herself for the flash. This won't be deadly for her but it'll certainly be unpleasant.

And indeed it is. The sunlight slows her blood fueled power to a near standstill and her power just gets turned *off*. She stumbles, shielding her eyes, and prays that the other vampires are hurt worse than this.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan's violet gaze rises to look at Tim, just staring at him for a few moments. <insert JustinTimberlakestare.gif>. Then she shakes her head and gives a look over the floor, "Gross." she wrinkles her nose at that. But she gets knocked off her balance when something goes after Tim, which causes her to try to scramble to block, but there is a contender for her attention.

She holds her hand out, her own magic flaring as she catches the lobbed fire ball, "Man, you speciest fucks." she states with a tsk. She wasn't sure what they were on about. But she doesn't acknowledge what it was either.

What does happen is that the trendils of neon violet reach out, seeking to grab unto the vampire that's puffed up to her, drawing it closer as black shadows start to intertwine within the purple. "You want to have a magic throwdown?" she grins as her eyes turn black.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Sorry," Tim says, as he flicks the flashlight back to regular old LED light. And boy is he about to be really glad he just discovered that he's holding a weapon decently capable of... well, maybe at least *annoying* vampires. And at Morrigan's stare, he can only grin and shrug. Then--

    Oh.

    So the smell Lydia noticed probably had very little to do with actual ink, Tim supposes. Discovering a bottle of Noodler's Ink likely isn't going to blow this case wide open.

    Unfortunate. That seems like it would be a reasonably Sherlockian turn of events that Tim would have enjoyed.

    Being slashed at by someone with a terrible manicure and a bad case of undeath, on the other hand, isn't exactly ranking on his list of Fun Nighttime Activities To Do With Your Cult Friends. At least his situational awareness is finely honed enough that he springs up into a stand at the hiss of breath that precedes the appearance of the suspected vampires nesting here.

    And, on his feet, Tim is much more able to maneuver, darting backwards with the kind of immediate distance put between himself and his attacker that suggests a fencing background.

    "I've only recently gone vegetarian," he calls out. "So I'm probably not very tasty yet!"

    He turns the UV light back on and aims the beam directly towards his attacker's face. It's a very 'well, this works in Dead By Daylight' kind of move.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Jon's bolt of energy seems to surprise the vampire and he crosses his arms in front of him in a defensive gesture, the bolt splashing against the vampire magi's forearms, searing flesh and cloth alike. He hisses and lashes out with two tendrils this time, hoping to beat the Archivist into cold oblivious.

    Jubilee's kick is indeed faster than the hulking thing's hammerblow and the blood infused strength of the teen vampire's kick is enough to send it flying through the air and into a wall. There is the snap of bone, drywall, and concrete as the wall buckles and crunches from the speed and weight of the impact. The vampire drops from the wall with a groan of pain but it is not Final Dead yet.

    The sun bright brilliance hits the wall and there is a dull thrumming sound as Primordial Light is met with the essence of Primordial Darkness. The two powers war with each other a line of something in between forming at the barrier of their meeting. The wave flinging vampire looks absolutely terrified of the young woman's power but no less holds his position firm, knowing that to fail is to meet oblivion.

    As Lydia goes ectoplasmic hedgehog on the hulking brute he screams in agony, letting her go, though the spines leave her attached to him. He foams at the mouth, the liquid tinged with blood in a pink froth as he tries to break free of the spikes impaling his hands. As Phoebe's light turns the power off the woman is indeed dropped to the ground and left with a shuddering wounded brute before her.

    Morigan's magic seems to be more than the vampire mage expected as he looks around at the neon tendrils drawing it ever closer to the woman. He crooks his hands into arcane shapes and a field of purple flame encases him what might be a protective shield. There is no heat to this flame though it is instead cold and lightless. "We can see what your foolish youth can attempt against the might of two centuries!" he hisses.

    Tim's UV beam proves to be just the thing. The howling monstrosity screams as the light hits it square int he face. The skin and muscles burn away from the bone beneath and even eyes burst and boil under the onslaught of the light. Another few seconds pass and the head of the creature explodes in a shower of bone and brain and blood as the body falls to the ground in an inanimate heap.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The group springs into action, and thank the gods for that. The Archivist spins his staff and slams the butt of it into the ground, manifesting a shield of shimmering blue energy into being in front of him mere seconds before the vampire's tendrils lash out again. They hit the construct and send coruscations along the length of it; he grits his teeth, the shield holds firm.

    He spares a glance around at the group. They're all holding their own, but these things have Power with a capital P. And that Darkness... there's very little any Archivist has run into worse than that Darkness.

    "Leave this one alive long enough to monologue!" he shouts, pointing at the vampire he's facing off with. Then he focuses for a moment, extends the shield of energy into a bubble around him so none of the vampires can get at him while he holds the apparent leader in place. He trusts the others to gain the upper hand, between Light and magic and UV flashlights and vampire powers.

    So the Archivist focuses his attention on the vampire that keeps trying to tendril lash at him. Emerald-green shimmers on his forehead and around his lips. "/Why are you here?/" The words come out with crackling static, almost tangible, a force of telepathic compulsion slamming into the vampire.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    Ah, yes, the familiar feeling of her foot ruining some jerk's day. Jubilation has felt it countless times in her life, though most of them were in the Danger Room. This time, though, her kick delivers its payload with more than just athletics and grace, even supernatural grace. This time, the vampiress reaches deep within herself and draws strength from her Dark Passenger, the blood that stirs inside her body. Any color left in Jubilee's skin drains immediately as her leg picks up speed thanks to her vampiric gifts.

    She might be strong. She might be plucky and enthusiastic. But, Jubilation Lee is not always a thinker. If she was, she wouldn't have wasted her efforts on that kick. Not here. Not now. Not in this room. This room filled with blood, both spilled and unspilled. How long has it been since she had any? Her eyes glance briefly towards Tim and then Phoebe. Even Jon. Get it together, Jubes, get it together!

    Distracted, hungry, stirring, Jubilee doesn't follow up her kick with further violence. Instead, Phoebe's light sends Jubilation blurring up the collapsed debris that takes her up and out of the basement. As she moves, the vampiress lets out a noise that sounds like a growl pushing out a hiss. Her mouth hangs open, fangs pointy and obvious, as Jubilee considers what to do next.

    She's too hungry to go back down there, she knows it. That kick and then blur-escape took a lot out of her. She never should've shown up to this thing on an empty, uh, stomach. Still, a voice whispers inside her, Tim and Phoebe don't need all that blood. Their bodies make more. Jubilation's brow knits into a low scowl as another thought bubbles up. That Phoebe brought in the $^##ning sun! How /dare/ she... Without the strength to keep these thoughts under the surface, Jubes's muscles tighten as she prepares to go back down. To snap Phoebe's neck, to turn her upside down, to freshen up that dried up stain on the ground. She SNARLS.

    Jubilee blinks her eyes a couple of times, stymied. The whole ordeal only lasts a couple of seconds, perhaps, but it feels like an eternity. Each moment aches more than the last. The voice of her Dark Passenger becomes more and more compelling. Demanding, even. The evil that stirs inside her leaves only one choice...

    Jubilee tosses her purple backpack down into the basement. It's filled with wooden stakes and glass vials of holy water. "Party favors in the bag!" Jubes shouts as she starts running as fast as she can, through the first floor of the business, out the door, and down the street. The lower lid of each of her eyes has a thin red line of blood.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    To face Oblivion would be an awfully big adventure.

    Phoebe keeps up the pressure, her dark eyes narrowing as she focuses her Light against the wave of darkness -- but she spot, he feels Jubilee making an exit.

    Good.

    Phoebe brings her hands back and to the side, and she channels her Primordial Light, that first spark dragged from the reflection on the water of chaos, and she Expells it like breath. Her aura, loosened and no longer guarded by the tattoo on her wrist, hhidden beneath the traps of leather and silenced dog tags does nothing to stop her from becoming a beacon of light, channeling out as she raises her right hand, summoning her brilliantly shining staff of light, and then with a powerful leap and crushing blow she seeks to bisect the creature of night coming after her!

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia stumbles back into the dark side of things so she can catch her metaphorical breath. After a moment of respite, and getting her blood back up and flowing, she takes a quick moment to get a sitrep. Her guy is down, which will give her an opportunity to do something about him.

Out of the corner of her eye she catches Jubilation as she speeds out of the basement, fleeing Phoebe's Light. She catches the wild look of hunger in her eyes, and she feels pangs of sympathy. Yeah. She's getting there, too.

Or, looking at what the others are dealing with, she can help Phoebe deal with the vampire who's putting out swathes of primordial darkness. That plan seems to kill two birds with one stone. Maybe more birds than that.

She reaches out with a hand and an onyx black tentacle explodes from it reaching out to wrap around the offending vampire. If she's able she'll slam him against the concrete with enough force that would crush a VW Beetle.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan's distracted given there are others in the room. And she knows vampires that are old can be pains in the asses. So she's trying to take on hers as quickly as possible without incinerating everyone. "I can assure you that most of us have better housekeeping skills than you all have and we're younger than you." she points out with a laugh.

The flame shield gets pushed against, then Morrigan amasses more shadowy and violet energy into a ball shaped projectile and hurls it with as much force as she can muster at the vampire she's dealing with. Maybe she'd knock it's head off. Maybe a hole, all she know is she was taking the kid gloves off.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Well, it is true that someone of Tim's height, weight, and general health could stand to loose about half a gallon of blood without dying, but he generally prefers to keep all the red stuff on the inside. So if Tim comes to understand why Jubilee flies the coop, he'll be appreciative.

    For now, though, he's busy.

    Acknowledging Jon's desires to keep the vampire facing him alive (er, not... fully dead?) Tim instead focuses the beam on the one that poses the most immediate threat to himself. And then its head pops. Which, uh, is a little unexpected, and Tim takes a hurried couple of steps back. But then he pulls himself together and turns to address the undead mage trying to shield himself against Morrigan.

    His flashlight beam turns too. And he clicky-click turns it on and off, trying for disorientation just as much as face-melting explosions.

    "Okay, boomer," Tim says flatly. How dare he try to quip! The villains don't get to do that!!! But then his voice picks up. "And before you try to correct me, because you seem the type--I'm going to explode your head, same as I did for your friend. So, still technically correct!" Which is the best kind of correct, naturally.

    It's a good thing vampires don't count against the whole 'no killing' rules the Bats have (sorry, Lydia and Jubilee). Otherwise Tim actually would have been wrong.

Marc Spector has posed:
    The vampire mage snarls as the Archist locks him in place. "N..." he tries to deny the power of the Archivist's compulsion. "I... ref--" His voice is heavy and slurred as if the words just don't work. "I... We... recovery... burn... no evidence... must..." He shakes his head and then his eyes glow green as well in the same hue as Jon's. "We were sent to recovery any and all evidence of our involvement here and to stop any who might stumble upon us. You're arrival interupted our sweep. We must eliminate you. No witnesses was the order passed from our Seneschal. It must be done with haste and with as little disturbance as possible." He screams then and the green glow turns to fire as his eyes and tongue boil and turn to ash in his head. The power consuming him more and momre until nothing is left above the man's shoulders and chest and the body drops to the ground still smoldering from the green embers lingering on its lapels.

    As Jon's combantant falls the vampire recovering from Jubilee's Blood Kick spasms and drops the body slowly sags and seems to deflate with black smoke seeping from every pore.

    The vampire pushing against Phoebe's counterwave snarls a smile as the woman drops her hands and the black surge rushes towards her.

    That's why he doesn't see Lydia's tentacle wrap around his waist and fling him into the wall with bone shattering force. The impact shatters bone, concrete, and alabaster skin alike. Black blood seeps from the cracks as his own darkness winks out, his concentration broken. He stumbles forward, directly into the path as the staff of Brilliance Incarnate slams down into him. There is a thunderclap of sound and what is left of the vampire mage would fit into a salt-shaker.

    As he dies so too does his thrall. The foaming brute had raised a fist to deliver a haymaker of death upon Lydia. But as his puppeteer dies he shudders and falls on his back as more black ooze and smoke seep from his released form.

    That leaves one.

    Morrigan's spell would've probably at the very least disrupted the vampire mage's shield enough for another quick attack to finish it off. But Tim's there in the pinch to disrupt the shield himself. The flicker flash of the UV ray upon the mage cause his to raise his arms to shy away from the light as a hiss of pain and surprise rises up from him. "YOU DARE!" he hisses, not noticing the fact that his black-flame shield is gone. The violet ball hammers into his skull crushing force, the magic acting like a physical thing as it interacts with the Blood mages' flesh. There's the hollow void of the absence of sound and then a flash of bright neon violet light as the vampire's head is just *gone.* The remainder of the body dropping like so much dead flesh.

    And that quickly, it appears that it's over.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The Archivist can feel the Hunger of his vampiric friend, but he's too focused to notice. He doesn't even notice the quip from Tim, though he'll register it later. Phoebe's Light, Morrigan's display of power, Lydia's vampiric strength--/none/ of it can compare to getting the statement from the vampire, however short it is. He stares it down, eyes glowing, enraptured...

    And then the vampire erupts into fire and ash. He rocks back, blinking. "I... didn't know it could do that," he comments, flummoxed.

    By the time he turns to look around at the others, all the vampires are felled. He flicks a glance at Jubilee's backpack and sighs. Makes a mental note to go find her and talk to her. But that's later.

    "Everyone alright? Nobody hurt?" He looks to each of them in turn, then places a hand on his chest, frowning. It hurts, but he'll manage, at least until he can get somewhere he can get it looked at.

    "Good work, everyone," he adds. "Good to know these sort of vampires react to the UV light. That Darkness, though..." He shakes his head. "I've only run into one thing worse than that." He glances to Tim, a significant look.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
And just like that it's over. When the blood magi drops Lydia gets hit by Phoebe's light a second time, which brings her to her knees with a groan. So weak. It takes her a moment, once the dark comes, to get everything going again and she slowly stands up.

"Hungry," she manages to get out, eyes red and fangs still extended. Between being hit by Phoebe's light twice in rapid succession and the blood she used to quickly get herself back into fighting shape, and not to mention what she used to shapeshift, she's feeling the bone deep thirst of the vampire. She hold out an hand warning the others to stay back. "Don't... Too much blood."

Jubilation had the right idea. Get out of the blood soaked basement when you're hungry and get yourself some real blood before you hurt anybody. "Call me," she manages to get out before hurrying up to the stairs and out on the street.

From there she sends a text: Vampire emoji, blood emoji. Its the code that she's got preprogrammed into her phone to alert the Brotherhood that she needs an immediate pickup and a willing donor. Soon enough a purple portal opens before her and she staggers though.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan blinks a few times, the black bleeding out of her eyes just as quickly as it appeared, "Well...that's intriguing." she mutters as she tries to shake the feeling of impending doom that hangs over her head.

"I can heal folks if they need. Not sure if these guys are going to have back up coming...so we might want to move after grabbing stuff." she frowns as she goes over to toe the dead body. Yep he's dead alright. Soon she's back to gathering samples...

Because SCIENCE!

Tim Drake has posed:
    Now that things have... settled down, Tim gets around to taking those samples with Morrigan. Science buddies! At the very least, it'll satisfy some of his scientific curiosity about vampire-kind, though maybe between the two of them they can manage to discover something useful from whatever analyses they might run.

    Given that all he did was dodge an attack and flash a couple of vampires (hey, no, not like that) Tim just gives Jon a thumbs up before returning to his science nerdage. Better to keep his head down and his focus on his work, rather than letting his thoughts take a dark turn after he realizes what Jon was subtly referring to, there at the end.

Marc Spector has posed:
    With samples collected and set aside for later study. There is a slow clap coming from the ramp leading down to the basement. "Well done" Moon Knight says with a laugh. "Very well done. Unexpected complications aside..." he says looking out the way he arrived. Presumably Jubilee's exit is his meaning, "I think you all did very well. A resounding success of teamwork and cohesion."

    He looks at the bodies of the vampires. "You've collected samples from them. Good. I will see that they are disposed of properly." He looks to Jon and nods. "At your feet Archivist. We may need that." He nods at the ground where there is a flyer of some sort. It must've falled from the mage's body when he dropped.

    On the flyer is a advertisement for a blood drive, promising meal vouchers or cash in hand for doners. There is a name and a website.

    A clue.

    "I will be at the Mission. If you need me for follow up. Again... well done." With that he turns and heads back looking quite proud of his team.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The Archivist frowns at Lydia. They're going to have to do something about that--what if she's too far gone, at some point, to send for help? Mental note to talk to her and figure out what will work, if anything.

    As Moon Knight comes in, the Archivist twists the bracer on his wrist and the glow in his eyes disappears. He sags a bit, clutching to his staff for support, and /glares/ at Moon Knight. "You /prick,/" he says, rubbing at his chest. But he kneels down and picks up the flyer, goes to retrieve Jubilee's backpack. "I'm not apologizing to Jubilation for you."

    He'll stick around with Morrigan and Tim to be sure the samples are properly gathered, make sure Phoebe gets off to home safely, call Lydia and Jubilee to check in on them. And then to the Midnight Mission, to drop off the flyer and go over what they've learned.