8901/Dracul Rising: End of the Line

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Dracul Rising: End of the Line
Date of Scene: 16 March 2022
Location: Ravencroft Institute, Westchester County
Synopsis: A cadre of the Heliopolitans take the assault on Ravencroft Institute, the lair of Raul Bushman and then Uraean Brood. Through determination and perseverance and extraordinary skill, they manage to destroy Bushman and the progenitors of the vampiric line, ending their threat for good.
Cast of Characters: Marc Spector, Jonathan Sims, Lydia Dietrich, Morrigan MacIntyre, Phoebe Beacon




Marc Spector has posed:
    Moon Knight had sent a message out (via Mr. Knight) to those he knew would be needed for this fight. Those he trusted to at his back. Those he knew would want vengenace: for themselves or for those they cared for.

    When those who answer the call arrive at the Midnight Mission, they find a few changes have been made. The three towering statues are covered by thick white tarps and, in particular the place that had been reserved for Thoth before looked mishapen; wider than it previously had been. Also the furnishings inside the Mission had changed. The dark wood and high-class sophistication of the hall had been changed out for something more reserved. The woods more naturally stained, the seating directed more for comfort rather than the appearance of elegance.

    The figure standing in the middle of the great hall before the tarp covered statue of Khonshu is Moon Knight. But he too is quite different. His hood is thrown back and his mask is off. The face under the usually constant mask is handsome in a roguish fashion. Dark curly hair hangs down to the middle of his neck in an unruly, touseled mass. There is a seemingly perpetual five o'clock shadow spread evenly over his jaw and upper lip the dark stubble salted with flecks of white. His skin is olive toned and his eyes are a shade of milk chocolate brown.

    He waves a hand to those entering and says with the usual baritone. "Thank you for coming. Also... hello. I'm Marc."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The Archivist has changed, if subtly, since the last time he came to the Midnight Mission. He hasn't been avoiding the place, as such, he's just been very busy. Dying and returning changed him in ways visible and not--most obviously, the scars he used to bear are gone. There's also a softening of the jawline, and of course the fact that his right arm's missing. He's summoned up a glowing emerald replacement for this mission, which stands out rather strongly.

    He wears his SHIELD tac gear, though without any of the identifying markers--turtleneck and pants and combat boots all in black, a vest with several pockets, his ICER in a shoulder holster and a new weapon, a curved khopesh, on one hip. He merely smirks at the man greeting them open-faced and says, "Finally coming out of the shadows? Thinking of angling for an invite to the Avengers?" They tend to be public personas, after all.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    When Lydia got the message it was almost a relief. A target more tangible and less of an existential threat than the angels that have invaded Manhattan, but no less deadly. The rival clan is one that needs to be taken care of, rooted out of the city to make space for more reasonable, and more peaceful vampires.

    The door to the Mission swings in, and Lydia enters wearing tac gear over a black turtleneck sweater and black slacks. She's come loaded for bear. That is, she has one (1) side arm that her fiancee insisted that she take with her. You never know when you're going to suddenly find yourself without your powers. She could totally be twinsies with Jon.

    "It's good to see you again, Jon," she says pleasantly enough. "You're looking good." To Marc she grins, "Hey, Marc. It's good to finally put a face with a mask."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan wasn't much of a regular around the Midnight Mission, or if she was she didn't get seen a lot. And apparently her game face is the same face she wears daily. Just minus the tailored clothing. She's in jeans, boots and a leather jacket that looks like it's been through a few years with her. Her violet gaze is brighter than it normally is as she comes in after Lydia.

When the Irish woman sees Marc unmasked there's a bit of a smile, "Well, I wasn't expecting that today." she admits. They'd talked about it a long time ago now. She gives a dip of her head to Jon, "Doctor." she greets. Then the same dip of her head to Lydia, "Miss Dietrich."

She then quiets to hear what Marc has to say.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe practically skids in on her boots, asymetrical skirt on, light hoodie with no arms, bag of tricks slung over one shoulder with a piece of toast in her mouth, jam spread on it, her hair in a pair of low poodle-poofs with gray leggings beneath the skirt. The scarring of her left arm is present and she looks a little wind-raggled, her motorcycle helmet under her arm.

    "HiJohnHiLydiaHiDrMacIntyre--" she states around the piece of toast, and then she looks down, and plucks the toast from her mouth.

    "... and... a pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Marc?" she states, and then looks down at the toast again.

    "Sorry, tried to get out of the house, there's a mother hen."

Marc Spector has posed:
    Moon Knight, or rather Marc, smiles to the group. He has a nice smile, open but having that same bit of roguish mischief lingering in it. "I worked with them once..." he says to Jon. "It might happen again, it might not and if I do join, I might reveal my name... but then again, I might not. Not all of them are open books."

    He nods to Lydia and Phoebe, giving the latter a smirk at her speedy entrance. "Being as a number of you fought with me for the safety of this place and its inhabitants... I figured it was only fair you see who you're working with. Besides..." he smiles fondly to Morrigan. "Once the notice was above one... it just seems silly to keep it from everyone. I trust you all and this is a way of showing it." He holds up a hand holding the mask in it. "When we're in private, Marc is fine. But when this is on, Moon Knight or Mr. Knight is better, depending on..." he gestures at the rest of his attire.

    "Again, thank you for coming. We're going to take a trip up north to a place I used to call home when I was a teenager." He gestrues for them to follow him and continues to explain as he walks behind the tarp covered statue of his patron. "The Uraean Brood, led by on old friend of mine named Raul Bushman, have turned Ravencroft Institute into their lair."

    Behind the statue he presses a panel on the wall and an opening on the floor slides away to reveal a staircase going down into the basement level of the building. Heading down the stairs leads the Heliopolitans into the armory of Moon Knight. For Phoebe the construction might be quite reminescent to another nightly crusader's lair. For the others, this would be the first time they've seen the light.

    There are a number of bays housing various components of Moon Knight's arsenal. In one, is his crescent glider, resting on a stand that seems constructed for that express purpose. Another houses a highly modified motorcycle. Another houses a progression of different suits, all have the same basic shape with cresent motifs. Yet another holds a variety of weaponry with the same motif on racks. The far wall houses a massive computer bay with a large array of monitors. On one of the screens is what looks like a large derelict building. On a set of broken wrought iron gates is a placard with the name of the facility on it: Ravencroft Institute for the Insane.

    Marc leads them along a catwalk that bisects the bays toward the back of the cavernous facility. "Bushman likely has a number of the Uraean's with him. They are magically gifted vampires who like to use physical darkness as a weapon. Sunlight will hurt them but not kill them outright, best bet for destruction of them? Decapitation."

    He stops at one bay and removes a number of earpieces from a white-lit table. He hands these off to those with him. "These will help keep us in contact with each other. Standard issue. Nothing too fancy aside from not being able to be hacked and highly sensitive. They'll pick up even the barest whisper so we won't alert others if we need stealth and coordination."

    At the far end of the cavern is a helipad and on the pad is a vehicle. The highly advanced VTOL is colliquilly called the Mooncopter, but it in no way resembles a helicopter. "We'll be taking this to get there. Unfortunately, I haven't managed to arm it properly but it flies and is all but silent about its approach. I can brief you more as we make our approach."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods to the others as they join up, grinning briefly at Phoebe. Then, at 'Ravencroft Institute,' he stiffens, his face going dark. "Can we destroy the place? Or at least cleanse the grounds?" Marc knows where the sheer seething hatred in Jon's voice comes from; one of the first things Jon ever said to him was an apology for the way the psychiatric community had treated the man.

    "How about decapitating them with sunlight? I can enchant this blade." Since when is Jon /bloodthirsty/? Well, maybe not that so much, but eager to get into a fight. Maybe it's the dying and coming back. Or maybe it's that these vampires held his daughter for a time and others tried to kill him. He takes in everything as they go, but he'll have to go over his memories later; for now he's focused on the mission.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia greets the others as they come in and then turns her attention to Marc as he speaks. "Does sunlight weaken them as it does me?" she asks as she follows him down the stairs and into the Moon-Cave.

    "Woah," she breathes when she gets there. "I didn't know there was this much space underneath Queens. Trying to keep the excavation of this secret must have been hard."

    She looks a little taken aback by Jon's bloodthirstiness. "It couldn't hurt," she says about the blade. "If I could do it without hurting myself I would."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"That is understandable." Morrigan murmurs to Marc. Though she gives a smile to Phoebe, "Hello Phoebe." she greets the young woman when she comes in with the toast. She then listens to Marc and she looks a bit...unhappy about going back to Ravencroft, but she doesn't voice it.

Then they head into the Moon Cave and there is a look about, she shelves all jokes for after the mission. Because that would be wiser to not piss off people prior to it. She's a quiet shadow at the back of the group for now.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe tails everyone as she comes through, and she wrinkles her nose at the derelict building. She sees the gates and the placard, and she whispers "I *know* that place.... that's the other place that showed when I tried to figure out where they were holding Agnes." she whispers, and she looks at her fingers, then to Jon. "I have a couple ideas about cleaning the place up." she gives a quiet murmur, and she runs her fingers over the scars on her left arm, following the others down, and she looks through the area beneath Queens, and then she says to Lydia: "You'd be amazed what you can hide under the rumble of a subway or construction equipment." she gives a wry smile, and she listens to mark.

    "Don't suppose they share the weakness to Holy Fire, otherwise I'm just beating them with a fancy weakening stick while weakening Lydia in the process."

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc eyes Jon with no real surprise in his expression. "Maybe, but we need to get rid of Bushman and his brood first. That's our main goal. Eliminate Bushman, eliminate the Uraean Brood, and any chance of their further propagation." He smirks at Lydia. "My financier sort of... bought this entire block of Queens. Keeping it secret was difficult, but masked easily enough under the guise of sewer work. This is technically the sub-basement of the Mission."

    He gestures for them all the board the Mooncopter with another wave. The inside of the aircraft looks about as high-tech as the outside does, but there -are- a number of seats (8 in fact) for the passengers to take. Marc slips on the mask, but leaves the hood down for now. He gestures for all his allies to put in their earpieces.

    "It doesn't -weaken them- so far as I've seen. It hurts them. Burns their flesh." He moves toward the cockpit and enters in a few commands on a console that has more lit buttons and readouts than a single man could possibly keep track of. "I imagine prolonged exposure would eventually kill them but they like to use pack tactics and they're good at it, getting one to hold still while focus firing sunlight and dodging the other four that come for you would be a tall order." He eyes Jon. "Remove the head however you want... it does the trick. That and..." he snappoints to Phoebe. "They don't like fire. Holy or not... they're not fans. If your blasts won't weaken Lydia, all the better." He pauses. "Bushman is the main problem. He's... protected from magic somehow. I don't know what the process is but it just sort of slides off him. It doesn't protect him from brute force... his vampiric augmentation and natural abilities do that well enough."

    The low hum of engines permeates the cabin, but it's softer than it has any right to be sounding more like white noise than any propulsion device for the large aircraft. From the cockpit's widow a panel in the side of the cavern opens into a lit tunnel that curves slightly upward. After another moment the aircraft starts to move, first rising and then slipping into the tunnel, gaining speed all the way.

     He fixes his glowing eyed gaze on the three mages with him. "I can't survive a sustained assault by his lieutenants for long. There are six in total... but I can take out Bushman." He sounds grim as he holds onto a handrail fitted into the roof of the cabin. "I've done it before I can do it again. I need you guys to keep the magics off me and to kill those six while you do it. If he's still up by the time you finish your targets... by all means if you think you can get through the shield or have the means to use brute force, do so."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "Don't worry about me," Lydia tells Phoebe, patting her pistol. "I've got a gun, and there's more of them than there are me, if necessary." She shrugs as Marc chimes in. "I'm not a big fan of fire either but, really, who is?"

    She falls silent for a moment, thinking as she boards the Mooncopter. "Look for a talisman of some sort," she tells Moon Knight. "Either a pendant, a ring, or something like that. I lay odds that he's got something on his person that makes the magic slide off. Either that or a tattoo, but my gut tells me talisman. If you can get that off of him, Phoebe and Jon will be able to back you up if necessary."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan leans in to whisper something to Marc before he slips his mask on. Then she's moving so that she's not holding up their departure. She puts in her ear piece as she looks over the seats and she then turns her gaze back to the man in white.

"If he's got a tattoo the best way to deal with that is by cutting the limb off that has it." the Irish woman states in a 'it is what it is' sort of way. "I'll try to call on all I can to keep things off of others." she tells the group as she finds herself a seat. "Might be able to see if we can find a way to shatter their wards to lessen their magic." she comments to them as an afterthought.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I will always worry about hurting my allies with my magic." Phoebe replies, "But I can control the pyroblasts easier than I can what direction the light goes." Phoebe states as she slips her earpiece in , and rubs at her left shoulder again , the one with all the burn scars. "If I thought about it, I should have brought some of the armorment from the Laughing Magician with me. I've still got a good amount of it up in storage." she murmurs to herself, and gives a soft snort, leaning her head back as she breathes out in a huff.

    "... never liked flying, but this ship's pretty all right, Moon."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon slips in the earpiece easily, glancing to Phoebe with a frown as she mentions that Ravencroft came up when she was tracking Agnes. That's not a good sign. He settles in, though, comfortable with flying generally.

    "Saying he's protected from magic is like saying he's protected from energy. That's a /really/ broad spectrum, and sometimes those wards can be overloaded. It might be worth trying, at any rate." He frowns. "I suppose snake venom won't do much good against him, or the others."

Marc Spector has posed:
    The copter/jet/craft hurtles through the tunnel, exiting somewhere on the banks of the East River. It rapidly climbs to cruising altitude, with the barest of g-forces on the passengers and starts for their destination with a small jerk as the prupolsions systems engage fully.

    Moon Knight gives Morrigan a slightly confused glance but nods to whatever it is she said and then gives Phoebe one as well. "Glad you approve, Princess." Was that a Sailor Moon joke? It wouldn't be surprising given who he is. He turns his attention to Jon. "Maybe you're right. Worth a shot at least. If you see an opening, fire away." He considers the second assessment as they hurtle through the night. "Unlikely since a cursory inspection of their blood has it being more parts venom than hemoglobin." He eyes Lydia. "I would not suggest attempting to eat one... if you feel so inclined. I think indigestion would be the -least- of your concerns in that situation."

    The aircraft speeds through the night and after a few minutes (yes minutes, 30 miles at 220mph doesn't take long) an alert light starts flashing blue. "We're here... get ready..." he moves toward the back of the craft and presses a button, the back hatch opens and after a gust of depressurized air, reveals the building beneath the craft. "Let's go."

    He jumps from the craft, expecting the others to follow suit (magically powered flight being something all of them are capable of) and spreads his cloak out behind him in a crescent beacon to slow his descent. He angles himself toward a broken section of wall. Morrigan would recognize it as the same hole he rescued her by when she was retrieved 2 and a half months ago.

    The inside is silent, empty and the hall before them is blocked by rubble from a collapsed ceiling. "We head down..." he says softly, his voice coming in clear over the comm pieces. "Morrigan, you were here last... best way?" he asks the red-head.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon has to take a moment to focus himself, eyes glowing teal as he manifests wings and a circlet bearing an ostrich feather. He jumps out after Marc to glide on down to the ground, frowning as he looks over Ravencroft from above.

    When they land, he takes out his sword and holds it at the ready, pulling up shields around the group to protect them from any surprise attacks. He looks to Morrigan to lead the way further into the place, and expands his magical senses out, wary of ambushes.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "Doubt it," Lydia says to Jon. "If they're anything like me, they don't have a working circulatory system, so the venom would just sit in one place and only effect where it pierced the skin." She shakes her head, "And even then their healing will probably keep that from getting too bad." She chuckles darkly, "I'd bet it hurt like a bitch, though." Her eyes flick to Moon Knight before shrugging. "Ooooor, their veins could just be filled with venom anyways and all you do is make them mad."

    She wrinkles her nose in distaste at the mere /thought/ of eating one of these vampires. "No. Ew. They smell.... wrong. Probably said venom running through their veins. If things get that bad for me, I'll get Blink to portal me out before I snack on anybody." She looks at her companions, "Or anybody else who needs an evac."

    She follows Jon and Moon Knight out the hatch, and about halfway down there's a kind of *poof* and in her stead is a large black raven. No need to advertise exactly how many people are here. She settles on Jon's shoulder for now. For all anybody knows she could be his familiar.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a smile when he just gives her that slightly confused look. She plants herself into a seat and then reaches into the inside pocket of her jacket to slide out her sunglasses before she slides them on. She leans her head back against the seat and whistles 'Hunter's Moon' as others talk.

But when they get closer the master of the mystic arts feels it and she frowns as she straightens in her seat. Then it's time to disembark and there is a slight look of panic, could Moon Knight fly? Apparently he could!

She's not really a flyer, but magics employeed do help with the descent like she's done in the past. When asked which is the best way the mystic draws on her powers, producing a bit of a neon violet 3-D map of the course to take. It looks like someone drew in the air with a sparkler. "Need to go this way." she points out the route she took, but in reverse given they're up.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a shrug to the others, and as she takes a breath, centering herself, and jumps out of the ship as well, careening through the air. Falling for a few seconds, freely through the air over the asylum, she channels energy through the tattoo on ehr back, and the clear, rose-gold colored glass of her feathery owl-like wings errupts from around her, and she catches the air, and lands as nicely as you please behind the group, her eyes narrowed, her wings folding behind her as she pulls the hood over her head, and the mouth-guard up over her face.

    "Then let's go." she whispers.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Moon Knight nods and leads the way into an access stairway nearby. They start to descend the stairs in silence, the only sound the occasional rustle of fabric as they turn back at a landing to continue down and the slow rhythm of their breathings (for the ones that breathe.)

    Eventually, the stairs stop at a landing and the turn back is just a gaping chasm into darkness below for who knows how long. Moon Knight looks at the neon map of Morrigan's and nods. "Looks like we're lucky. This is our floor" he says and slowly opens the door.

    The alarm goes off instantly. It's mystical in nature, so the mages feel it before the klaxon of light and sound erupts in the hall, a distinct warning of an intruder in a predator's territory. The wail that comes from down the hall is inhuman in nature and has hints of a hiss inside it, as if a snake could scream.

    The white clad crusdaer steps into the hall. "Well... shit..." he says softly. "So much for the element of surprise." He twists to the side as a bolt of absolute dark lightning arcs past him and shatters a crater into the wall to his right. Followed by more lances and balls of darkness hurtle down the hall towards the emerging infiltrators, their casters emerging into the dimly lit corridor seconds after. There are five in total, and none of them seem to hold the power of a master mystic, but they are a potent assault squad all the same.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    As Moon Knight goes to open the door, Jon suddenly reaches out, hissing, "Don't--" But he's too late; the door is opened and the klaxon goes off.

    "Aren't you supposed to have /infiltration training/?!" he gripes at Moon Knight as magic begins to fly down the hall toward them. "Gods, I've been doing this for five months and I know better than to just open the bloody door!"

    As he speaks, he summons fire from the Astral Plane, using the khopesh as a focus through which to target the gout of flame that he sends down the hallway. That also puts the flame further away from the vampiric raven on his shoulder.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia doesn't have a palm to smack into her face at the moment, or else she would have done so as soon as Moon Knight just up and opens the door. She hops back off of Jon's shoulder and in another *poof* she's standing there, surrounded by motes of golden light.

    "Phoebe!" she calls out.     "See if you can blind them! It'll take them a while to recover! I know it'll effect me, but I've got a plan!" With that she spreads her arms out, and golden points of light start popping up everywhere, filling the corridor and surrounding the vampires. "I'll be able to feel where they are with this!"

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"Moon Knight..." Morrigan hisses out as he barely misses a bolt. Jesus Christ. She follows out, her magic starting to snake out though the black has started to over take the violet that she usually has. It swirls in front of the Irish woman before she releases the magical energy, hurling it down towards those that are heading their way. Hopefully it would slow them for a moment.

"My Queen, you might need this..." a black shadow peels its self from a wall, presenting her with a sword. "Ah, that's where you've been. Stick around, we might need you." she tells the shadow. Once the sword is handed over the shadow transforms into a very large tibetan mastiff and follows Morrigan.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "This Is Fine." Phoebe states, and she raises her shield, the eight-point star lazily turning as she holds both hands up for maximum coverage, her eyes getting that rosy-gold glow about them before she drops the shield, coming to the side as she brings her right hand up, palm out, concentric circles forming on the back of her hand as she utters a command and a flash of brilliance brightens up the room, Phoebe stepping forward to point her light at the attacking vampires, trying to shield those behind her from her own brilliant violence.

    Unfortunately, this makes her a very likely target for reciprocation!

Marc Spector has posed:
    "Everybody makes mistakes..." Moon Knight snaps at Jon as he dodges another ball of energy. He makes a fist and aims it down the hall toward the oncoming charge. There is the sound of pressurized air and two small objects fly from his wrist brace.

    Jon's flame catches the leading charger and the creature wheezes out a high pitched scream that escapes the range of human ears as it ascends and he falls to the ground in a smoldering heap. The others keep coming though, flinging more magics toward their quarry. As Lydia's motes of golden light emerge the charge slows and the vampires swat at the motes attempting to assess or disperse their threat.

    Morrigan's bolt of dark violet energy slams into one of the vampires assessing the motes and it explodes in a shower of ashy motes that flit to the ground like falling powder snow.

    Phoebe's shield blocks a number of the projectiles, sending ripples of cold energy up her arms in a negative cascade effect. The sunburst effect is truly jarring at first, turning the grungy, dimly lit corridor into the midday light. The effects on the vampires is immediate, they start to scream and hiss as boils start to rise over their skin and burst with small audible pops, oozing thick red fluid that can't possibly be blood.

    One of the screaming remaining three takes whatever Moon Knight fired in the chest and there is a small dull thud before the back of the creature explodes in a torrect of blood and tissue. The vampire screams and writhes on the ground, not dead but clearly in agony. "Good to know the grenade darts work."

    The reamining pair of vampires start to back up slowly, their onsliught easily dispatched and dodged by the emerging group. Even with their retreat they fling energy out at persistent intervals, hoping to overwhelm (or at least distract) the oncoming heroic force.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Rookies are the ones who are supposed to make rookie mistakes," Jon retorts, raising his magical arm to deflect a bolt of energy. "Or are you getting slow in your old age?"

    He frowns at the door past the pair of vampires. "There's a large magical power source in the next room. It feels like..." A pause. "It feels like /Agnes/." She can't possibly be here--she's safe in the Triskelion, surrounded by SHIELD technology and his own wards.

    So what /is/ in there?

    He narrows his eyes, peering at the door beyond the pair of vampires, then snaps, "Cover me." Before getting any kind of response, he summons all the power he can into a shield around himself and then runs down the hall, focused on the door at the end. His hope is to barrel on past the vampires and blast open the door, as foolish and reckless as that is. Like he said, the rookie's supposed to be doing the stupid stuff!

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia had her eyes closed, so she was ready for the flash of light. Still painful since her senses are tuned to the dark, but she can deal. She feels half the vampires go down and there's only two left. "You're not going anywhere," she says, and clutches her hands closed. The motes of light that surround them coalesce around their ankles, locking them tight in cuffs of golden light.

    "No mercy," she growls and spreads her fists apart in a tearing motion. The ankle cuffs move with her gesture, spreading the legs of vampires wide. Wider than their bodies would allow. It looks like Lydia is attempting to rip them in half, leaving the way clear for Jon to barrel through.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a look to the massive dog at her side and then points, it down the hall towards the enemies, "You'll be fine, I know you will." she tells Riordan. Rio for his part is already halfway down the hall and biting into things. Good Herald!

Morrigan unsheathes the sword that he'd brought to her and charges down the hallway with it, looking to sever the heads from the Ureans in a quick, if not so clean manner.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Can we discuss strategy AFTER you -- oh, balls, Jon!" Phoebe calls out, ending her brilliant blast of sunlight and blinking the spots away, cautiously running after Jon as he rushes on ahead. "Moonknight!" she calls out, "DOn't let him do anything stupid!"

Marc Spector has posed:
    The remaining vampires were hoping for a retreat and regroup effort down in the next area. They unfortunately don't get that far. The sound of a physical body tearing in half has an almost paper-like quality to it with a distinct after sound of just... wetness. It's not a pleasant sound in any way and the result is even less pleasant between the sights and smells of blood and organs spilling over the floor.

    Luckily Jon doesn't have long to be in it as he sprints past the dying pair, past the double doors at the end of the hall and into the next area. It's an arena. An amphitheatre light pit is surrounded by row after row of spectator seats. The seats are filled with people. Some have the sallow complexion of vampires, and yet it's clear that not all of those present are dead.

    In the center of the pit are eight figures. Six of them are tall and pale underneath billowing black robes. They hover above the ground like wraiths and turn their black eyes, devoid of any sense of humanity on the Archivist as he barrels in, hands move as they begin to conjure forth energy and power to lance out at the man who disturbs their company.

    The other two are a dichotomy of styles. One is Raul Bushman. The hulking black man with a painted ruin for a face is covered with weapons: knives, machetes, and guns line his body. In one hand is a massive single bit fire-axe, in the other a length of barbed chain that he snaps like a whip with practiced precision. The magic shield surrounds him in an aura of oily darkness that warps the figure of the man underneath.

    The other is a slight lookinig man with long black hair and a goatee. He's well built, but it's lithe muscle. He also exudes power. So much power, like the baking sun over a desert, like the heat of a furnace in the midst of a blacksmith's stall, like the midst of a volcano on the brink of eruption. It's power and it's all in him and it's so familiar to Jon, because it's the potential of his daughter actualized into reality. "Oh..." he says, turning to Jon. "It's the pretender. Kill him" he says and the six mages fling their energy onto the lone man.

    Just as Moon Knight bursts in. He all but tackles Jon aside, moving the Archivist out of the way and taking the full assault of six master mystics full on.

    If it wasn't the first night of the full moon, Moon Knight would be dead.

    As it is, he arches and screams in agony as conjured darkness warps in a -through- him, filling his veins with pain and cold and fear. Pumping him with the volatile energy that darkness incarnate can provide. Their magic runs its course and the White-clad Knight drops to the arena floor on his knees.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "/Pretend--/" Jon doesn't get a chance to finish his outraged statement as Moon Knight tackles him. And thank the gods, too, because that blast of energy probably would have killed him outright. He rolls away, beneath the mystics and climbs to his feet, clutching the khopesh and staring at the men in front of him. Oh, this is /not/ good.

    He catches his breath, furling his wings. "That power doesn't belong to you," he spits. "The blood in your veins is stolen." With a weird kind of singular focus, he throws himself forward at the man with the long black hair, leaving Bushman and the mystics to the others. He's been practicing with the sword every day, scouring the Archive for help using it, so he's competent enough as he slashes the khopesh toward the man holding the power of the sun.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "That was.... satisfying," Lydia says, giving the rest of the group a fanged grin, but it quickly fades when she sees Moon Knight go down. "Crap!" she shouts, and quickly steps in front of him, holding up a hand to create an ectoplasmic shield for them. That should give him time to recover.

    She looks around at the arena uncertainly. "I don't know if we can fight this many people," she says. "But I'll try to distract Bushman until Moon Knight can get back on his feet." True to her word, she sends an ectoplasmic tentacle out to wrap around the vampire, to bind his arms together and hold him there. Since her ectoplasm isn't magic /per se/, she should be able to get this to work.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Riordan runs like a happy dog down the hallway, dragging an arm along with him. He's just a happy boi! Morrigan's too busy cutting things down until she gets to the door. When she hears Marc screaming in agony though she runs as fast as her noodly appendages will let her. What she sees below makes her go a few shades whiter than she already is. She jumps down, landing into a crouch as she sizes up the other mages. "How very dare you..." she whispers as she looks around.

She draws the sleeve of her jacket up, letting the sharp blade of the sword open up the skin beneath. There's a roll of power that courses through the room as she stops wearing kid gloves with these guys. The sword is brought up as she uses it to channel her most powerful spells of destruction through them. The targets: the other mages that were not on their side.

"Your Majesty, I...fuck..." the dog jumps down to assist the Irish woman. "Go off my Queen." he chuffs out.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
     -- that's why Agnes's line felt drawn here. Phoebe could feel the similar power now. She breathed out, feeling the sudden heat and gravity shift in her own magical senses, drawing herself apart and pushing her down at once as she gives a hiss of discomfort, and then she drops down low, bringing her hands together. a little pop of flame errupting from her hands --

    but it's misdirection. The flame hides the pair of throwing knives, laced with Holy Power along their blades as she lobs the two of them at a pair of the floaters.

    "Exolvo mi, da mihi lumen!" she snarls out, releasing her full aura and becoming a Light in the Dark.

Marc Spector has posed:
    The man moves with surprising swiftness, dodging and weaving away from the swings of the khopesh. He backflips away and catches the sword in between hands covered in flame. "You think that you, a mouthpiece for -balance- can outfight the glory and power of the Sun?" he says, rising with the blade still caught in his firey grasp. "I will show you the error in your ways" he says as flames start to flare from his eyesockets and small fires erupt from the ground around the pair.

    Morrigan's spells lash out and bloody javelins of black and purple enrgy lance out. Two of the vampire mages raise their hands to impose defensive wards before them, black discs that should block all but the most ferocious of magics. Unfortunately for them, Morrigan--when imposing her full will against others--is in the league of employing the most ferocious of magics. The lances press against the shields and they eventually shatter before passing into the vampire and erupting in a corruscating burst of energy that leave the vampire mages as nothing more than charred and rotted heads amidst an ashen heap. Gray powder creeps up the head and black ichor spills from their mouths before they too evaporate into ash.

    Two down, four to go.

    Phoebe's burst of fire is intercepted by consuming dark, but that doesn't account for the holy infused blades. One of the mages is too slow to notice and the blade embeds itself in the creatures face. Light bursts from the entry wound and the being's head explodes forcing the body to fall to the ground in a formless heap of billowing robe. The other is faster and manages to catch the blade on a black tendril on energy. There is a high pitched whine as the opposing forces work against each other and eventually the tendril snaps, releasing the blade from its grip. The trajectory was off course. Even so the end over end motion passes by the vampire-mage's throat without visible incident. That is until the monster opens its mouth to speak and black ichor pours out before a line of white light opens up along the creatures neck, as the mage had literally slit the creature's throat.

    Four down, two to--where did the remaining two go?

    The explosion of Light from Phoebe sends a chorus of cries from the stands and the vampires scream in agony as Holy infused Primordial Light engulfs them. The humans in the stands, flee, shielding their eyes from the intensity of the healing beacon.

    A pool of darkness forms underneath the glowing girl and then inky slime erupts from the ground around the young woman to cocoon her in cold, empty, darkness; the only light being the one from her body pushing against the void-black slime trying to crush her.

    Lydia's tendril is indeed -not- magic and it wraps around Bushman. He winces as Phoebe releases his light--the brightness irritating his eyes even through the magical barrier that protects him. Then suddenly as it emerged it's cut off and he smirks. "Cute trick... mutant" he sneers and there's a sudden pressure against the tendril. By mean strength Bushman flexes against the wrapping tendril and frees himself. A swing of his axe shatters the construct and the man shifts his focus behind the woman. "Didn't know you hid behind this sort of filth, Marc. But it suits you, coward that you are."

    Moon Knight places a hand on Lydia's shoulder, he's already on his feet again. "Help Balm..." he says to the devotee of Isis. "I will handle him." Through the comms, he adds softer. "I'll take out the barrier and then you all tear him to bits." It seems he wasn't entirely devoid of tactical prowess.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon /is/ aware of Phoebe being enveloped in darkness, of Bushman insulting Lydia, but he can't really pull away to help them. He'll just have to keep this potentially powerful foe busy while the others take down Bushman.

    As the man catches the sword between burning palms, Jon... laughs. "You think Ma'at is merely balance? Ma'at precedes Ra into the world. The King's power flows from his ability to speak truth, to give with his mouth the ma'at he conceives in his heart." He has no evident fear of the fires around them. He /was/ the sun, not long ago, at least within the underworld. He gave himself over to that power.

    "Pretender? I /earned/ the right to channel that power. What did you do, besides stealing a little girl's blood? Do you even know your /duties/? Or do you only care about power and glory? Do you even know what you're /doing/ with that power?"

    He frowns. "Don't you know you're supposed to /fight/ the snakes?"

    He can't seem to wrest the khopesh away from the man, so he lets it go and draws his ICER. At this range it's easy enough to fire, and so he does, pulling the trigger and holding it, emptying the clip of bullets full of dendrotoxin into the burning man.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    The flash of Phoebe's primordial light rips a cry from Lydia's lips. She wasn't prepared for it this time, and it momentarily depowers her, causing her to fall to her knees. "I've been called 'filth' my entire life," she says. "By people whom I respect more than you." She gives Bushman a menacing grin, "Which is to say everybody. If you want to talk filth, you should start with your own bloodline."

    However, she doesn't get a chance to make good on her threat, when Phoebe's light is snuffed out. She quickly turns and rushes towards her friend, infusing the ectoplasm around her hand with her magic. She reaches out to grab at Phoebe, pouring her magic, trying to dispel the blackness. By herself she's only of middling power, but hopefully between her efforts and Phoebe's they'll be able to break her out.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan's blood is starting drip down her arm at a faster rate and there is a moment taken to make sure she didn't knick something. She'd be that dumbass. She was making sure that the mages were gone, which meant that they just had Bushman and Evil Goatee Guy to deal with. "I'm getting ready to pounce I guess." she states as she moves into position.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    It'd be foolish to trust that the Light would keep away all of the darkness. Pheobe doesn't beleive in going in blind -- or in a bind. She tilts her head down, and focuses. These creatures are creatures of darkness, from Egypt, but she was made of Older Stuff.

    Enveloped in that darkness, feeling its extraordinary pressure building up, Phoebe brings her staff into being, the brilliant light casting pallor on her skin, her eyes glowing the rose gold as she also calls her wings back into being, and then, her staff floating before her, she brings one hand up and one hand down, and tries to force the grasping lengths of darkness open using her shields to push outwards!

Marc Spector has posed:
    The flame infused man jerks with each bullet that hits him and he lets go of the khopesh, letting it clatter to the stone floor of the arena. "That... that can't be... I'm... I'm Amon Ra. I am the Sun King. I am the god above gods!" He presses a hand to the wound and doubles over. "You... you will pay for this offense, Pretender. I will see you burn alive." He screams in anger and pain and flmaes consume him completely leaving a smoldering spot on the ground in his wake.

    Lydia's own power presses down on the inky blackness and it bends around her ectoplasmic hand, a sicknening squelch coming from the pressure around it. It's cold. It's so very, very cold. But Lydia's been dead for a while, cold doesn't bother her... does it? The wrongness of the magic used here though, that is something else entirely. It's putrid and unnatural and full of pain and fear. Even so, some of the darkness gives way, giving Phoebe the opening she needs.

    And with her own light, the staff, and her wings, she bursts free from the confines of her dark prison. A scream of pain and obliteration erupts from the final two mystics--who had been that very slime-like mass.

    Which leaves only Bushman to destroy.

    Moon Knight and the hulking man go toe to toe. The swings of Bushman's weapons are -blocked- by Moon Knight's arms; the power of Khonshu in his full phase bolsters Moon Knight to powers that have been said to rival the Hulk for physical prowess and it shows. Each time he strikes Bushman, the massive man grunts in discomfort and the shield around him ripples unable to protect the massive vampire from the sheer force of the blows from Moon Knight.

    Again and again he lashes out and though it's clear he's managed to score blows on Moon Knight, the white stained with bright scarlet from a number of deep cuts and slashes, the Fist of Khonshu fights on with reckless abandon. "You don't get it, Bushman..." he says. "You can come back a thousand times and I will be there to kill you one thousand and one times just to ensure you stay where you belong." He catches hold on Raul's machete arm and using it as leverage manages to sweep onto the man's shoulders. "In my memories and no where else." He draws a small dagger with a crescent on the hilt. "Say goodbye to your protections... and your existence." He drives the dagger down onto an Eye of Ra brand on the man's neck.

    The blade, simple and unenchanted plunges into the flesh and disrupts the symbols magics. The oily shield falls away from Bushman and his macabre face shows the fist sign of panic it has since he entered as a villain months ago. "ALL OF YOU! NOW!" Moon Knight calls, dropping and grabbing hold of the big man's legs to stop him from fleeing. The Avatar of Khnoshu doesn't seem to care that he is in the line of fire of a complete onslaught that is sure to come.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon has to takes a few deep breaths as the man--the Sun King?--disappears in a gout of flames. The heat was worse than he realized. But he leans down to pick up his khopesh and files that whole business away for later. Right now... the others need help.

    He turns just as Marc is dropping Bushman's shield. Taking inspiration from the man who just disappeared, he pulls on the same energy, the fires of the sun, and sends a gout of it over at the vampire. Hopefully together they can kill the man. Again.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia staggers backwards as Phoebe suddenly frees herself. She regroups quickly, now, as she watches Moon Knight battle the giant vampire. When the oily field drops, Lydia gives him a fangy grin.

    "Freak /this/, you bigoted asshole!" She throws her hands out at Bushman and a little less than a dozen golden swords, all sharp as a razor, rush to impale him.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan is waiting for the signal from Marc and when they have it the Irish woman gives a look to Riordan, "Definitely going to need to take tomorow off and day drink." she murmurs to him. Then she straightens, a second stab opening up another blood source as she focuses the rest of her energies on Bushman, making sure that the blood that is spent is worth it. She wills it to be worth it!

Once she's done though, she slumps down towards Riordan, "And by day drinking I mean I'm going to sit in the corner of the lab with a blood bag." she murmurs to her herald as she raises a hand to pet him.

Then her violet gaze is looking to see what brunt of the damage that Marc took, it made her stomach uneasy, nausea being felt with the loss of blood and things. And she hated this place for a few choice reasons.

Marc Spector has posed:
    The flame from Jon hamers across Bushman's chest, boiling away flesh and bone alike in the intense heat of a star. The man screams in agony as the fire is worse than anything created by mundane means. The heat burns and flakes away the outer layer of Moon Knight's armor, the carbonium and adamantium plating ablating away before true damage to skin can be done. Still he holds on.

    Lydia's swords hammer one after another with sickening cruelty some impaling the man and Moon Knight alike. "You're going to die with me... you fool" Bushman gurgles out, blood and ichor running like a fountain from his mouth. "Won't be the first time..." Marc says darkly.

    The final blow is given to Morrigan, vengenace for his torture of her at the beginning of the year. Her final spell, infused with her blood and will, sends a black tinged disc across, and through, the man's throat. "I guess that's it then..." BUshman says, not even stopping his gloatings in death. "Be seeing you Marc. Be seeing..." His head topples from his shoulders and the hulking body goes limp before blackening and flaking away as ash.

    Moon Knight doesn't look good. He's bleeding from a myriad of wounds sustained during his fight with Bushamn and his reckless self endangerment during the man's death. Half of his armor has ablated away, some of it revealing blackened flesh beneath. He smiles a half-smile from a heavily sunburned side of his exposed face. "I thought it would hurt more..." he says before he topples over. "Good work... everyone. Jon..." he says, tossing one of his bracers to the man.

    "Center button will get the copter in range... top button to send it home. I just... I'll need a bit of rest. Maybe the roof..." His eyes flutter closed and his breathing, while even is shallow. Even so, he is alive.

    It would seem, that the day--or night--is truly won and the threat of Raul Bushman and the Uraean Brood is over.