Rise of the Titans

[DeathsKnight]

Hayden Condan

He sighed,

"Taking a thing that thrives on shadow through shadow, bound in shadow by a shadow manipulator...yeah let's take the van."

He produced the keys and moved to the doors, he opened them, looked around and strolled out. Outside he stepped into a dark alleyway and after a few moments there was a smooth rumble and out of the shadows pulled an old van

The van pulled to a stop and the side door creaked and groaned as it got slipped open from the inside, Hayden stepped out and grinned at everybody.

"There we go."

 

[Tight_n_ready]

She hadn't been idle once she'd sent the Hellhound, she hadn't expected him to achieve a great deal, though she was surprised that it hadn't returned to it's prison. Creatures of myth, symbolic as they were, never died, they were banished, sometimes for a few days, sometimes for years at a time, but she had summoned Nemis and was surprised that he had neither returned to her, nor to the Underworld. Perhaps they were a tougher foe than she had banked on, though she was sure there was a daughter of wisdom with them.

She was here to meet a man, the restaurant was expensive, and opulently furnished, perhaps distastefully, but the super rich who ate here liked exorbitant, tasteless expense just to show they could. It was at the top of some anonymous building, floor to ceiling bomb-proof windows looking out over Grand Central Park. The floor was luxuriously carpeted, and statuary and urns that looked like they had been pillaged straight from Greece and Rome were placed advantageously. She'd been waiting for only five minutes when the man she was meeting arrived. He wasn't the kind to keep a client waiting, people in his business didn't last long if they did. He was dressed in an exquisitely cut pinstripe suit, but with his wire-framed spectacles and fussy, balding grey hair he looked like any accountant from the multitude of companies that made their business in New York. He was accompanied by hired muscle, literally, the man looked like a shaved gorilla stuffed into a suit. There was an unsubtle bulge under his left armpit and he carried a Pianki briefcase in one meaty fist. The briefcase obviously belonged to the bespectacled man who walked nervously over to her table before sitting down.

The nervousness was an act, and his manner was in fact smooth and professional once he had sat down, the gorilla set the briefcase down and stood watchfully behind him, dull eyes scanning the restaurant for threats. He wasn't the only body guard present, and Lyra had no doubt that one of the restaurants customers was another bodyguard, sent to scope the place before Mr Andrews arrived. It was justified, Mr Andrews was no killer, but he was a middle man, and very very good at his job, if you wanted weapons, drugs, a safe house, he was the man to go to, he could get you anything you wanted, for a fee. The fortune he'd amassed was testament to his skills, he was an instinctive risk juggler, knowing precisely what risks to take when, and he was never wrong. It was uncanny, if she hadn't already worked out that the man was an unknowing descendant of Prometheus she would have been unnerved.

"Miss Òra, yes?" His voice was clipped and short, business like.

"Mr Andrews, I trust you have found the man I requested?"

His lips were thin and disapproving as he removed a laptop from the briefcase, swiveling the screen so she could see. "Yes, though I don't know why you would request him, there are several better, more hygienic associates who are available. As it is, he is currently engaged, the ACA I believe, though I can always express your interest in him."

"That is more than satisfactory Mr Andrews, let him know that I am anxious to obtain his... contract and willing to pay well, very well."

Andrews coughed slightly, "speaking of which."

Lyra tossed a stick of metal onto the table, it was short and oddly corrugated. A safety deposit box key, the bank logo was inscribed onto the key.

"Box number seven two three, the password is Prometheus, all of it, as agreed, plus an extra fifty as advance for the second task I detailed at our last meeting."

She smiled slightly, she hadn't been able to resist the slight prod at the man’s ancestry. Andrews pocketed the key without a word, she wouldn't cross him, no one did. There were a lot of very powerful men behind him, she mused at how many may be unwitting descendants of the gods, they tended to spring up in the extremes of society, the super rich and the wild liberals. Gods liked extremes, they were themselves the products of them so it made sense.

"Now that our business is concluded perhaps we could enjoy dinner, I have heard the food here is simply to die for."

 

[heartofcourage]

Lydia Pruitt

She took one look at the van and couldn’t suppress a smile. She was busy writing an address on the back of a piece of paper pulled from her purse. Handing it to Hayden, glanced back at the bound hellhound they now had to transport.

“This is the address. When you get there stay in the back alleyway. I have to go cross town and then I’ll meet you there. If that thing wakes up flood everything with light so it can’t slip back into shadow or try to get it to talk. I doubt this is the first time this thing has done this.”

With that, she slipped around the van and down the street, bursting out into the nightlife of the city. It was bustling tonight, she thought as she wound her way around people and cut in through Central Park. There were people milling around the park at night and it could be unsavory sometimes but that was the least thing on Lydia’s mind.

Her brain was whirring like a machine at all the possibilities that they had just uncovered. She never thought that learning so much about the other Gods out there would make her so happy. It was a like a piece of her had been restored.

Exiting the park, she scooted down into the subway, paying for her ticket and catching the next train that would take her to her destination. She kept a watchful eye out, glancing around the half empty car as the lights flickered and the train jostled to and fro. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as she came to her stop and exited back to ground level.

It was the walk through the docks that usually spooked her the most at night. It was a cheap place to live compared to most of the city and on her limited budget it was really all she could afford. Her apartment was a small loft on top of a convenience store run by an elderly but kind Asian man.

She could smell smoke in the air as she approached her street and noticed that there was a lot more activity than normal in that area. Flashing lights indicated police and large vans told her that news crews were there. People were massed around barricades watching a scene that she could barely make out. It didn’t really matter at that moment because she had a larger mission to complete.

“What happened over there?” She asked Mr. Feng as he sat outside his shop, her hand digging her keys out of her purse as she tried to open her lock.

“Something blew up. The cops have been over there a while.”

She smiled at Mr. Feng as her lock opened. “Probably just a gas leak.” She said as she entered her tiny space and bounded up the stairs. In her small space, books were dominating with barely enough room for a bed, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. She looked over her shelves quickly and decided which ones could help her the most before the pulled her satchel off her desk and started stuffing the volumes inside.

 

[DeathsKnight]

Hayden Condan

"If it tries to escape I'll hold it, I can use the shadows just as much as it can."

He walked over to the unconscious beast, with a heave lifted it up and walked to the open door of the van, he threw the hound inside and turned to the others.

"Somebody else has to drive, I will need to stay in the back and keep our friend bound."

He got into the back and sat down close to the hound, watching it carefully.

 

[HotCider]

Lower Bay, New York on the coast between Brooklyn and Staten Island
21:30 – Piper’s Shipping Co.


FBI, SWAT, and forensics were swarming the docks bagging bodies, and the few remaining criminals were apprehended and shoved in the back of black vans. Jessup was taking his leave after two FBI agents pulled him to the side and bombarded him with a series of questions that he didn’t exactly answer—in the most honest sense. The ACA didn’t pay him to answer questions, they paid him to kill and their matters were none of the FBI’s business. They had confiscated his grenades and his hunting knife, which made the mercenary relieved that he had left all of his heavy-duty equipment on his bike. If they had confiscated his guns, then there was going to be some problems.

He walked off the premises; his journey was going to at least be a mile down the road from Piper’s Shipping Co. It was in an alley where he parked his bike by a dumpster and draped it with a tarp to make it seem like garbage. The southern man had a grim look on his face. He really had liked that knife, and he was hoping to be able to buy a new and better one.

When the sound goes BOOM, what you gonna do, make’a make’a move motha’ fucka!

Jessup reached his hand into his right and first cargo pocket and removed a flip phone. He popped it open and raised it to his ear.

You’ve been reassigned.

The mercenary stopped in startle. A chill burst within his chest and travelled like a frosty cloud down his back as the whites of his eyes became evident.

“What?” Jessup growled.

It’s just a temporary reassignment. We’ll see you back after thirty days. You will meet your new employer at the Starbucks on 72 Spring Street. Sit in the second booth to the right of the front entrance.

The call had been that simple and also that short. The agent on the other end hung up and Jessup was left standing there with his upper lip cocked and flashing hints of his teeth in disgust. Oh, he would be there. He wanted to know what kind of Shirley Temple had the balls to buy his contract.

His fingers folded about the phone, clapping it closed before he dunked it into his pocket. If anyone was planning to abuse his services, he would kill them himself.


The walk had been a quiet one, and even a mile away, he could smell the smoke from the grenade he had used. There was a crowd of onlookers ahead who stared at the flashing lights in the distance and the smoke stack dispersing into the air.

What happened over there?

Something blew up. The cops have been over there awhile.

Probably just a gas leak.

Jessup resisted the urge to utter a short laugh at the two strangers. Huh, gas leak that was a good one. He turned down an alley next to the store/apartment and approached the veiled motorcycle. He loosened the tarp and whipped it free from the black Harley Davidson. He then neatly folded it and tucked it under his arm as he crouched before a black leather storage compartment. He rolled in the code and undid the lock, popping open the portable trunk to reveal the M4 with scope and laser-pinpoint. For Jessup, it was like gazing upon a sleeping infant. He had killed many with that rifle, and so he was rather partial to it.

Smiling impishly, Jessup set the tarp over the weapon and removed a folded white-marble hoodie that read American Eagle on the front. It wasn’t a store he fancied or shopped at, but it was casual. Sliding the sweater on, he pulled it down, adjusting it until it fit correctly and then closed the trunk. Locking it up, he straddled his bike and removed from the handlebar the black helmet with a plastic visor to keep the wind out of his eyes. Getting the keys out, he started up his bike and blared out of there.


72 Spring Street
22:00 – Starbucks


The glass door opened and the green and black, wearing server chorused from behind the counter, “Wel-”

The irritable look she received from the visitor was comparable to that of an angry pit. Her greeting dissolved into an incomprehensible noise as she looked away from Jessup and pretended to cough. With his hood drawn up over his head, the mercenary made his way over to the second booth only to see it occupied by four young kids who appeared to be college freshmen. He turned and faced their booth.

A guy and a girl wearing glasses were giggling to each other, while two others were playing some Magic The Gathering game. The girl was first to notice the ominous-looking man standing there and she elbowed her friend next to her while she took a long drag from her frappucino.

“What?” her friend asked irritably before he glanced to his left to see American Eagle, and then up into the grim face of the man standing there. “Oh my god! I mean, uh, is-is there something wrong?”

“Ah’m expectin’ someone here, and yer sittin’ in the wrong seat.

“Oh! Uh, sorry! We’ll move right away, won’t we guys?”

The girl nodded frantically. “Yes, it’s not a problem. Sorry, we didn’t know.”

“Fuck him!” the long-haired boy across from his Harry Potter-looking friend snapped. “We were here first.” He then frowned up at the hooded individual and exclaimed, “Go sit somewhere else!”

A frightening grin stretched across Jessup’s face, flaunting the tombstone rows of his teeth. He reached out with his hand to grasp up the two red die on the table and began shaking them around within his closed fist.

“How ‘bout ah roll this die and you tell me how much damage ah’m gonna do t’yer face if you don’t get the fuck up out of this booth.”

The four teenagers were frozen in fright as they watched him shake the die around. When Jessup dropped them onto the table, the four glanced at the points and paled.

“Yeah, let’s move,” the long-haired boy finally agreed. He scraped up his cards and was the first one to flee, ducking his head as though expecting the mercenary to hit him when he scurried by. The rest of his friends gathered their drinks and scooted out, fleeing to a table in the far corner of the shop where they couldn’t be seen.

Once the kids were gone, Jessup settled into the booth and slumped against the backrest as he waited for his new “employer.”

 

[Jedi_Khan]

Xavier deals with Renko, part 1

Xavier stood in the shadows of a crane’s rigging, looking down at a scene some hundred yards away. The meeting that Xavier was watching had started out normally, two rich and powerful men meeting, their armed entourages setting up a perimeter while the bosses did business. Everything had gone smoothly up until just after the merchandise, in this case, slaves, were brought out and a few were escorted away, probably to be killed. It was shortly after this that the bosses apparently got some bad news and the natural distrust of criminals, not to mention between Russians and Americans, kicked in. They got over that, and after some guards from both sides went off to investigate something, all hell broke loose.

Xavier watched as the FBI swooped in and arrested the buyer, but not before the seller, a Ukrainian by the name of Bohuslav Yehorenko, aka Renko, escaped. Renko was Xavier’s current target, but since Renko was doing some business tonight, Xavier figured he’d identify the buyer and go after him too. However, now that the buyer was in FBI custody, that wasn’t a possibility anymore. In fact, this bust would probably ruin Xavier’s plans for Renko as well, because the criminal was likely to leave the country in a hurry.

If Xavier wanted to get to Renko before the guy disappeared, he’d have to work fast, but how do you approach a guy who had just avoided being arrested by the feds and now was about to go to ground? A smile formed on Xavier’s lips as an idea came to him, a ploy that he had never used before but given his history, will work beautifully. He pulled out his cell phone, and stepping deeper into the shadows, dialed a number.

In Renko’s car, a cell phone rang, but it didn’t belong to any of the men inside. One of the bodyguards found it hidden under a seat and answered it carefully, and with a curious look on his face, handed to Renko.

“It’s for you, boss.”

With a curious look of his own, Renko placed the phone to his ear, but before he could say anything, the voice on the other end spoke.

“Mr. Renko, you got lucky back there at the docks, but your buyer wasn’t so lucky. He’s been arrested by the FBI, but he won’t stay arrested for long. He’ll cut a deal with them, telling them everything he knows about you and your operation in exchange for immunity. With all that information, the feds will come after you next and you won’t be able to cut a deal with them,” said the voice, a smooth, male voice with a slight accent to it.

“Who are you and how do you know all this?” asked Renko, getting angry.

“How is unimportant, but as for the who, I’m the man who will help you get off the radar of the law and your rivals for good, while allowing you to keep your freedom. Make sure you and your goons ditch your phones and your car, but hold onto this secure phone. I’ll be in touch.”

With that, Xavier hung up. He looked back at the scene below him, taking a few more pictures with the camera’s telescopic lens he had been using to watch the whole event unfold. He even made sure to take a few pictures of that mercenary who seemed to have been the cause of most of the chaos; Xavier would have to keep an eye out for him in the future. As the FBI secured the area and packed up the buyer, Xavier packed up his camera and left.

A few minutes later, he exited an alley behind police lines, and after pausing to stare curiously with the other onlookers for a moment, turned and walked past a little convenience store with apartments above it and a little Asian man standing outside.

 

[heartofcourage]

Lydia Pruitt

She had stuffed her satchel full of ancient and rare texts, closing the flap before she turned to look around her apartment for anything she might have missed. Moving to her tiny closet, she changed out of the dark jeans that were still covered in the blood of the two fallen comrades that she’d tried to help earlier. Shimmying into a new pair, she jumped an inch off the floor when someone fired up a loud Harley in the alley way and sped off. Shaking it off, she turned off her lights, stopping briefly at the photo she had framed on her desk. She pressed her fingers to the image of a handsome older man for a moment and smiled. She’d paid a lot to a private investigator to track down her wayward father, a man she only knew as Gabriel, and she’d kept it secret from the Pruitt family who had adopted her except for the one photo she had displayed in her home. It was all the investigator had been able to give her but she still held out hope of one day finding him.

Bounding down the stairs, she stopped briefly to lock her door before turning back to the street. She was in a hurry to get back and meet with the others.

“Have a nice evening, Mr. Feng.” She called with a distracted wave as she turned to hurry down the street and ran straight into a figure who had been standing in the darkness.

She gave a cry and closed her hands around his shirt as they both toppled to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Her satchel flew out of her hand and spilled its contents across the ground, followed quickly by what looked like a very expensive camera and camera bag. She heard the plastic crack and she winced, tears instantly coming to her eyes as she thought about how much it would cost to replace.

“Oh, no.” She said, horrified as she glanced down at the man she had accidentally taken to the ground with her. He was more than likely a tourist that had heard about the explosion and came to see for himself. His hair was long and dark, pulled back in a ponytail and his features were handsome enough. She would probably place him of Hispanic origin if she had to guess. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She offered as an explanation as she went to untangle herself from the stranger.

 

[Tight_n_ready]

There was a pathetically happy jingle as the door opened, followed by the click clack of heels tapping across the floor. The girl behind the counter smiled winningly and chorused. "Hi, welcome to Starbucks, what can I get you?"

She was answered by nothing more than an imperious glare before the owner of said glare strode elegantly to the second booth on the right, sitting down opposite the scowling man who'd just scared those kids across the cafe. The woman was tall and slim, dressed in a well cut grey suit and a well fitted three-quarter length coat. She looked like she was here for business, and obviously was having ignored the server and joining the man in the white hoodie.

She raised an eyebrow at him, before sliding a phone across the table. "You must be Jessup King. I'm your new employer, Lyra Òra."

 

[HotCider]

Jessup heard the jingle and the click-clack of heels that frightfully neared his table—please don’t let that be who he’s thinking. The owner of said dress shoes then took a seat across from him, and with no casual conversation of ‘get to know yous’ she had outright slid an encrypted cell phone across the table and told him that she was his new employer. Jessup’s golden eyes lowered to the flip phone before rising back to the prim and proper young woman sitting before him. If this Lyra Òra achieved anything, she had Jessup speechless for five seconds before he snickered hard and collapsed back in his seat in a fit of laughter. The mercenary didn’t think he had ever laughed so hard in awhile—sure, he had laughed a lot at Nathan Clark—but this brunette was the best joke he’s encountered in a long time.

With his teeth clenched in good humor, he wiped a few tears from his eyes before he stretched his arms out across the top of his seat and foured his left leg over his right beneath the table.

“Yer nothin’ but a pampered, little cupcake moochin’ off yer rich Daddy aren’tcha? This ain’t how business is done. Yer here to try and convince me why ah shouldn’t sit here and kill you for wastin’ my fuckin’ time,” Jessup explained. “Ah kin assure you that you won’t make it to that door alive if you fail to do so.”

 

[Tight_n_ready]

Lyra

Lyra smiled pleasantly through Jessup's laughter, brushing aside the casual, but clearly serious threat. She ignored it, instead tapping the phone with one long, delicate finger. It was new, and expensive, and lit up as she tapped it.

"Frankly Mr King, this ridiculous posturing is going to get you, nor I, anywhere. I'm a busy woman, and you're opinion pf me is irrelevant to the fact that you work for me now. You're a professional, or so I'm told, so keep your opinions to yourself and a civil tongue in your head."

She was still smiling, but it wasn't friendly anymore, and while it appeared pleasant there was something dark and not entirely human behind that smile. The server behind the counter shuddered and looked away at that smile. There was something that had seen war on a scale not even Jessie King could dream of. It was ancient, that smile, and she sensed something almost as ancient stir within the mercenary. Oh yes, this was the one alright. The power rolled off him in waves and it was amusing that he hadn't noticed it yet, though the stench of his rancid t-shirt might account for that.

She selected a file on the phone screen and about half a dozen photos popped up. The people in the photos were all young men and women, unremarkable by all accounts. Lyra's voice was low now, in the crowded cafe there was no way they could be over heard.

"These are the targets, now I know you are a capable man but I suggest you watch your step with them. They are a lot more capable than you might think."

She sat back, the relaxed smile still on her face, the darkness hidden once again behind that impenetrable mask of humanity.

"Questions?"

 

[HotCider]

Jessup stared long and hard at Ms. Òra as she gazed back at him in a creepy way. Her expression though seemingly sweet made him feel uncomfortable—like an itch he couldn’t scratch. If she hadn’t set her attention on the mobile phone, he might have reached across the table and punched her in her pretty, little neck. His right eye twitched slightly at the thought. As delightful as it made him feel imagining it, it didn’t happen. The targets she had for him had caught his interest, but when they turned out to be a bunch of college-looking kids, the corner of his upper lip once again arched in disgust.

These are the targets, now I know you are a capable man but I suggest you watch your step with them. They are a lot more capable than you might think.

The mercenary was back to staring at this harlequin sitting before him. This had to be a joke.

“These kids better be fuckin’ serial killers, drug dealers, or even spies and you better tell me they are. This ain’t funny anymore. You might have bought my contract, but all ah gotta do is kill you, and it’s over—just like that. Where’s their files, huh? You think you can just show me pictures and expect me t’go huntin’ after’em like a damn hound dog?”

He caught himself getting carried away. He was getting riled up for no reason, and all over some Daddy’s girl. Closing his eyes, Jessup set his hands upon the table top and slid out of the booth. He pointed back at Lyra and threatened, “Ah’m gonna give you a head start. Ah thought killin’ you with my bare hands might have sufficed, but ah wanna shoot yer damn head off.”

He hadn’t had a chance to use his M4 all day until now.

 

[DeathsKnight]

Steve Denver

He felt that familiar tingle and angrily brushed it aside, but in an instant it gripped him and he walked to to open door of the van. He woodenly got into the driver's seat, an angry look on his face, his whisper was soft and venomous.

"I really would like you to stop that."

He had no idea who he spoke to, but he knew that there was intelligence behind this force that took control of his body from time to time. He waited for the rest of the small team to bundle in and close the door, he started the van and to his utter surprise it purred to life without even a small indication that it had any troubles going.

He drove as carefully as he could, not wanting to waste too much time, he finally parked the van outside the double doors of the loading ramp of the storage facility, after checking that all was clear, he got out.

"Hey! Stop right there!"

He froze and slowly turned to find a guard approaching him,

"Just what are you doing here?"

His mind kicked up a gear and he grinned at the guard.

"Well my friends and I have been working on a presentation of mythological creatures, we have selected the Exremetious Giganticus Houndius bound by the Greek hero Domina."

He pulled open the door to reveal the bound Hellhound and the surprised group of people,

"Quite life-like wouldn't you think?"

The guard inspected the hound, then the faces around it, he grunted.

"I don't think I even want to know what this Ecremetos Grigwhatchemacalit is, fine, the doors are open anyway. Just don't try and take anything that you didn't bring in OK?"

Steve nodded, the guard turned and walked away, it occurred to Steve that the guard did not ask names and that troubled him.

"OK guys let's go."

 

[Tight_n_ready]

Lyra sat back and smirked as the mercenary began to lose his temper, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“These kids better be fuckin’ serial killers, drug dealers, or even spies and you better tell me they are. This ain’t funny anymore. You might have bought my contract, but all ah gotta do is kill you, and it’s over—just like that. Where’s their files, huh? You think you can just show me pictures and expect me t’go huntin’ after’em like a damn hound dog?”

"No no, the hound didn't work."

She watched as he slid out of the booth, pointing back at her with one callused, dangerous looking finger and responding with another threat.

“Ah’m gonna give you a head start. Ah thought killin’ you with my bare hands might have sufficed, but ah wanna shoot yer damn head off.”

She nearly laughed, he hadn't changed a bit. Ares had always been a powerful god, but he was short tempered, easy to manipulate and given to empty threats. She smiled at him as he turned to leave, before focusing. The clock stopped ticking, the second hand creeping ever so slowly towards the next. The server behind the counter was typing in an order with agonizing slowness and the dice used by the nerds across the cafe were hung, almost motionless in space. It was more of a struggle to restrict Jessup, but he was unaware of his powers, his true nature and that allowed her to bind him within the slowed time stream. She could almost feel her body aging as she stole time from the cafe, but it wouldn't be enough to affect her significantly.

She stood up and walked around in front of Jessie, he was still looking back and pointing at where she had been sitting. She was now between him and the door and as she released time again he nearly walked into her. All he could have seen would be the barest blur in the air as she'd moved faster than time to stop him leaving.

"There are a group of very powerful... people about to announce their presence to the world."

She was choosing her words carefully, diplomatically, she didn't want to reveal too much just yet, there was still a chance she could get Ares on side, as long as he didn't wake up to his true heritage too quickly. He had always been hotheaded and rash, if she was lucky, that would play right into her, and her father's hands.

"This group of, kids, as you put it, might just delay that. They're dangerous, you've seen what I can do, they are themselves similarly... talented. You are a businessman Mr King, you will be richly rewarded for your services."

The words were honest, the Titans would return, and the children of the gods, now weak and pathetic spirits hidden from the world, had no chance of defeating them, all they could do is delay the inevitable. Change was coming, a new golden age, and Lyra was it's herald.

 

[heartofcourage]

Lydia Pruitt

Lydia glanced at the man as she moved to pick up her books, shoving them back into her satchel as quick as she could. The man was staring at her and she felt uncomfortable under his intense gaze. There was something about him that she couldn't quite place. Maybe it was the way that he stared at her, but she could almost feel something within him. Moving to his camera, she picked it up off the ground and felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach at the rattling sound it made in her hands. She sighed and looked back at the stranger that was now dusting himself off.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She handed the camera back to him and put her satchel back on her shoulder. “If it’s broken, I’ll pay for it. I’m late for an appointment though, so go into that store over there and talk to the man that runs it. His name is Mr. Feng and he’ll get your name and phone number for me. I’m so sorry again.”

She gave him another apologetic smile and started the long trek to the library facility to meet up with the rest of the group. Riding the subway, she couldn’t help but shiver at the icy prickle that ran her spine. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Allison’s words came back to her and she was starting to doubt that the group that had been assembled could really fight against a great force. They simply weren’t ready and that was a frightening prospect.

Exiting the subway, she walked the few blocks to the storage facility and immediately got a earful from the security guard that was at the bay doors. She tried to smile sweetly at him and explain what they were doing, but he wasn’t listening.

“I will watch them and make sure that nothing is disturbed.” She assured the guard and then slipped past him, sighing in relief when she saw the beat up van sitting at the loading dock. Walking to the driver’s side, she gave a smile to Steve. “Did I miss much?”

 

[HotCider]

Jessup finished his last threat. His teeth came together, and at that same second, nearly faster than his mind could process, Lyra was gone. His brows knitted in disbelief. He was confused to where she had gone. Lowering his hand, he glanced around the café at the other occupants. First to the nerds in the back and then to the Starbucks employee. It was upon gazing at the employee that he noticed the familiar figure standing in his peripherals. Jessup’s head snapped in her direction, and the sight of Lyra caused him to step back in a start.

There are a group of very powerful... people about to announce their presence to the world.

Lyra’s words almost fell on deaf ears as Jessup stared at the woman in awe and confusion. Did she just teleport? No; people can’t do that. What the fuck? His heart was racing nervously. What was this woman?

This group of, kids, as you put it, might just delay that. They're dangerous, you've seen what I can do, they are themselves similarly... talented. You are a businessman Mr King, you will be richly rewarded for your services.

The mercenary was lost for words. Slowly, he gazed down at the café floor, trying to absorb the last two minutes. He carefully made his way back to the booth, walking backwards until his back met the corner of the booth and he dropped into its seat. Resting his forearms upon his knees, Jessup bowed his head until the hood veiled it. He didn’t like people he couldn’t kill. Well, he wasn’t convinced that she was immortal by any means just not easy to take down if she could teleport, run super fast, or whatever the hell kind of stunt she had just pulled; and there were apparently others just like her?

“Others like you that kin teleport?” he questioned thoughtfully. How do you expect me to kill someone like that? He wanted to say that aloud, but he didn’t. He was a contract killer—a “professional” contract killer. Why did she want to go and kill some special kids any way? Another question he wanted to ask, but he wasn’t paid to question his assignments.

Jessup exhaled a defeated sigh from his nostrils as he turned back toward the table with the cell phone on it. He gazed at the faces on the screen. One face had caught his interest and he grabbed the phone to slide it closer. Leaning forward, he examined the face he was scrutinizing.

Probably just a gas leak.

Jessup sat back in his chair, staring deeply into his memory bank. Coincidently, that had been that girl, hadn’t it? Sliding the cell phone back to the center of the table, Jessup asked gruffly, “Whattaya know ‘bout her?” He pointed to the picture of Lydia Pruitt. “Does she do any hocus pocus shit?” He had put their conflicts behind him. He was interested in his new and difficult assignment. It was different, and if those kids could do what she could do, then he could learn something about killing her. It was the submission that he wasn’t going to admit. She had him working for her already.

 

[Tight_n_ready]

"Teleport?"

She laughed.

"No, they can't do what I do, but they are capable of a lot more than any mere human is. They won't be easy to kill."

The mercenary had been stunned, shocked even by her display. He had backed away, almost unaware of his surroundings until he hit the booth and sat down again, his head bowed, like he was hiding from the world. He'd asked if they could teleport. Cute. Like a child with a comic book.

He sighed, and Lyra smiled. She had him. He examined a picture on the photo in front of him, and she could almost hear the cogs whirring as she walked back to the booth and sat down.

“Whattaya know ‘bout her? Does she do any hocus pocus shit?”

"Her, no. She's probably the least dangerous, and the most. She knows things, kill her first."

She stood up, "if you need to contact me, I'm on the speed dial" Though her tone made it clear she did not expect any call but one.

"Let me know when it's done."

With that she turned to leave.

 

[DeathsKnight]

Steve Denver

He breathed a sigh of relief as Lydia approached, he met her smile with one of his own.

"No not really, just had to explain to the guard that that thing back there..."

He glanced over his shoulder,

"The hound in the back, is a project that we need to present. I think Hayden was last busy dragging it around by it's tail, trying to get it to speak."

He chuckled nervously at his own joke.

 

[Tight_n_ready]

Hellhound - Nemis

It was not dark, it was murky, unfocused, fuzzy, things swam past in the murk, doubling, tripling, coming into focus for a brief moment before swimming away into the murk. But it was becoming clearer, light was shining down into the fog as his mind cleared. The Hellhound shifted slightly and the entire van rocked, he tried to stretch out his limbs but they came up short. He growled, realising his confinement and the strength of the bonds holding him, then he looked about, his malevolent red eyes glaring about at the clustered heroes. A deep growl rumbled in his throat, bubbling up from the pit of his stomach, his teeth bared in threat, before the growl died down as it saw the massive form beside it. Hayden looked even bigger hunched inside the tiny van, intimidating even to a Hellhound, especially considering his parentage.

 

[DeathsKnight]

Hayden Condan

The beast came awake and Hayden looked down at it,

"Quite resilient aren't you?"

From the shadows he pulled what seemed to be more shadows and let it flow into the rope, strengthening the bonds further. He pushed open the back doors, picked up the hound slightly, maneuvering it to the doors and then lifted it further as he himself got out, being able to stand up, he made sure that a shadow would always be close to the ropes so that the hound could not just up and break them.

"Now hold still big guy and I will not let the bad man hit you again."

He flashed a grin at Brian and walked to the loading doors, pushing them open and entering, looking back at Lydia

"Where to?"

 

[heartofcourage]

Lydia Pruitt

“This way.” She motioned to the group as she lead them to the loading dock door. Digging in her satchel, she pulled out her ID card and swiped it at the door, entering in her code and pushing open the door for everyone else.

Glancing towards the security booth she noticed that the guard was now occupied by his tiny television and probably not likely to bother them again until they went to leave. As the last person entered, she let the door close with a bang, the automatic lock snapping back into place.

“My office is down here.” She said over her shoulder as she started down the long hallway to the archives. For a person who had never been to the archive storage room, it looked a little like the final scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, although in her time working there she’d never once found something so cool as that.

Unlocking her office, she turned on the lights and looked around the space for a moment. The florescent lights hummed overhead and everything seemed like she left it the day before. The room was less office and more storage space. Books were scattered across her desk, papers piled on the table she used for research and loads of boxes lined the walls for her to sort through at a later date. It wasn’t anything lavish or spectacular, but it was hers and she was proud of it.

“This is it.” She said as she moved to push the table out of the way and motioned for Hayden to put the hellhound where the table had been.

 

[HotCider]

The least dangerous yet the most…Jessup continued to stare at the smart phone and the girl who looked nothing like a rough-neck killer. Lyra had taken her leave and she didn’t need to elaborate on what she meant by phone call. He knew that most employers want to know if the mission had been a success or a failure and nothing else. The least dangerous yet the most…what did she mean by that? He frowned in his meditation, his dark brows lowering over amber spheres. He reflected on the magic Lyra had just shown. Magic…was that what he was calling it now? Christ…his hand went to his face, resting just beneath his eyes. He felt as though he was going crazy, but he knew what he saw. He felt it down to his core. It was the chilling spark of fear that had clenched his very soul. Fear and…excitement, oddly. He was going to be up against super humans. Never had he been given an assignment and he didn’t know exactly how to prepare for it. The least dangerous yet the most…Whatever. He felt like he was growing older the more he thought about it and not acted on it.

Rising from the booth, Jessup couldn’t ignore the fact that he felt a little unsteady. He was overestimating that innocent face on the cell phone and for all he knew she might have been as harmless as she looked. There were no further thoughts on why he had to kill the girl. He was looking at the mission like a game—a challenging game of slaughter them all. Oh, his blood was pumping just thinking about it.

As he turned his back to the Starbucks employee and took his leave, from behind the shadows that fled beneath his hood as he left the lit establishment, his lips unzipped into a long and malevolent smile.

King’s Apartment

Back at his apartment, Jessup had shed his clothes. He stood before his mirror, staring at the man before him whose gaze was like a cobra’s. There was so much hair upon his face and although it wasn’t thick enough to be considered a beard, it made him look frightening, and if he was to visit the apartment of his target, he didn’t want to be memberable. Jessup touched his face, his fingers gliding across the harmless quills of hair. His face hadn’t been the only thing he was looking at but his body. After all he’s been through, the bullets, the stabbings, and he’s even cut it close with a few frags, his skin was pristine. There wasn’t a scar on it. He lowered his hand as he regarded the black, plastic bag that had been tossed into the corner of the bathroom. It held his lucky shirt, and already a few flies were parked on it, taking a rest stop on top of the tantalizing treat that they just couldn’t penetrate.

That shirt wasn’t just lucky, but magic. At first he thought it protected just his torso, but it seemed to protect his body like a suit of armor. His employer may have had her witchcraft, but he had a card up his sleeve that read Landlubber.

Where did ah get that thang? he mused. He couldn’t even remember. Thank God he had it.

Cutting on the water, he cupped a handful of it and splashed it against his face twice before he grabbed up the shaving cream from the sink counter and sprayed a pillow into his palm. He commenced smearing the foam across his face, making sure to obscure every hair before he picked up a six-inch, wicked-looking piece of steel. He slightly tilted his head and began carefully shaving the hairs from his face.

After his shave, Jessup was looking like a whole new man. His countenance seemed brighter and much more youthful than the grizzly bear he had been before. He had on a nice black, dress suit with a violet-red undershirt and black, silk tie. The mercenary looked like he was going on a date, and his outfit might have worked out if he didn’t have his lucky shirt on beneath it all. The cologne he was wearing—the smell of cinnamon, frankincense, and sandalwood—barely hid the odor. In fact, the musk blended into his aroma giving it an exotic funk that few would probably appreciate.

He brushed his sleeves and shoulders for lint before he reached his hand inside his jacket to check his concealed pistol. He had decided to pack light. If he needed anything heavier, then it was going to be on his bike. Dressed for business, Jessup took his leave.

Lydia’s apartment

Jessup parked his bike where he had originally. It had been the place he had remembered and the apartment next to it was where he had overheard his target and a man talking. He dismounted and grasped his tie, giving it a few light tugs as he adjusted it. He then brushed his fingers over his closely-shaven face and the sideburns he had trimmed military style.

Time t’see how dangerous you really are, Jessup thought as he walked out of the alley onto the sidewalk. As he neared the door to the apartment, there was an Asian man sitting outside his shop—sitting exactly where he had partially recalled he had been. He wasn’t sure if he was the same man, but he was about to verify that.

Jessup approached the apartment door and gave it a knock before he folded his hands behind his back. He was putting on the nervous date-act, even though the Asian man wouldn’t have known who he was.

“Are you looking for Lydia?” Mr. Feng questioned.

Jessup raised his brows and regarded the man curiously. He changed his accent. “Is she in?”

“She left some time ago.”

Shit…Jessup mentally cursed. It didn’t matter. The Asian man had the voice he remembered, and he had just confirmed that the apartment he stood before had been his target’s. Bowing his head to feign disappointment, he sighed softly and then glanced to the shop owner.

“Can you tell her that Joe stopped by? I was supposed to take her out to dinner tonight.”

It was believable for he not only acted the part, but he looked the part, and now days, people were gullible.

Mr. Feng nodded. “Yes. Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem.”

Jessup turned to head back down the sidewalk and around the corner into the alley. As he approached his bike, he gazed up at the fire escape and to the lone window. He was going to assume that it was locked. He crouched next to his bike and undid the pad lock. He took a sheath that held a knife and the white American Eagle hoodie. Tucking it under his arm, he locked the compartment and started for the folding stairs, reaching up to pull it down. Quietly climbing them, he reached the second floor and turned around to stoop and pull the stairs up.

The mercenary then approached the window, taking the knife and wrapping the sweater snuggly around it and his hand. With one strong punch, he punched a hole in the glass as it clattered within the apartment. The sweater hadn’t been there just to protect his hand from the sharp glass, but to also muffle the noise. Sliding the knife out from under the sweater, he kept the material wrapped around his hand as he reached his arm inside and unlocked the window. Drawing his arm out, he opened the window and stepped inside before turning to close it again.

For the moment, he didn’t bother pulling the blinds down over the window for he used the light to guide him around the apartment. It was very tiny—much smaller than his apartment. She was practically living in a shoebox with how close the kitchen and her bedroom were. He swept the inside for pets before he found a seat to the side of the stairs that led down to the front door. Jessup reached inside his coat to draw out the pistol and then the silencer attachment that he started to screw onto the end of the gun’s barrel.

Once he got it on, he glanced to the stairs and decided to change his position. He didn’t want her to see him as soon as she reached the top. He picked up the chair and moved it against the wall to the side of the stairs before he glanced to the window that he had left unveiled. He approached it, pulled the blinds down over it, and parted them to let a little light filter in. Finally returning to his seat, he felt he was finished being extra careful and the waiting game could officially start.

 

[DeathsKnight]

Hayden Condan

He followed Lydia, looking around him with a grim smile, if it wasn't for the burden he carried, he would have been asking questions. It only recently dawned on him how big the hound actually is, that must have been because of the adrenaline rush and the fact that he was rested before this all began didn't quite bring out the true scope of the beast. Once inside the office, he just dumped the heavy beast on the spot indicated and stretched out, joints popping, he turned to Brian and Steve.

"You guys look after it, I have to take a nap."

He hid a yawn behind a huge hand and walked to a corner where the shadows have converged, he slumped down and was asleep almost instantly.

 

[heartofcourage]

Lydia Pruitt

She watched as Hayden moved into the shadows and collapsed to the floor, asleep in an instant. She frowned and look at Steve and Brian with a questioning glance. Carrying the beast and keeping it confined must have worn him out.

Moving her attentions back to the hellhound, she stared at it for a moment and tried to figure out how it would be best to go about questioning the animal. She wasn't really sure how this would work but from what she knew about these beasts some had the ability to communicate.

Stepping closer to the beast's head, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared into its eyes for a long moment. Nothing came to her as she finally decided that maybe the best way to approach this was the simple way.

"Who sent you here?" She found herself asking the hellhound, thinking that it was absolutely crazy she was speaking to a dog and expecting a reply.

 

[DeathsKnight]

Steve Denver

He watched in fascination when Hayden actually picked up the hound and carried it, this dude was strong, way stronger than his size would allow him to be. It reminded Steve of how Pro Wrestlers sold moves to make them look that powerful, Hayden was the real deal, he was actually that strong. But it did seem that all this taxed the big man as he went over to sleep, then the smart girl went over and asked the hound a question, well not that it was that crazy to ask some weird dog who sent it, it was just strange to expect an answer while it's muzzle was tied securely.

He moved over and untied the hound's muzzle, quickly fashioning a knot from the now loose end and looping it around the hound's neck. He took position next to the hound, hand firmly grasping the loose end.

"Right, now you can talk. One wrong move and I pull on this and you can't breathe, so behave doggie."

He spoke to the thing like he knew exactly what it was and that he had seen it before, he shrugged off the feeling and kept a close vigil on the hound.

 

[Tight_n_ready]

Hellhound - Nemis

Nemis grunted sharply as Hayden dropped him on the floor, baring his teeth behind the rope wrapped securely around his muzzle. HIs eyes were wide as he looked around as much as his bonds allowed him, taking in his surroundings with an unnervingly intelligent gaze. It looked like some kind of storage space, but this was no wine room, stacks of what looked like paper lay around the edges of the room, and a wooden table stood in one corner with a chair behind it.

The little one, with strange covers over her eyes, moved forwards and stood squarely in front of Nemis, crossing her arms and staring into his eyes. The hellhound glared malevolently, and silently back.

"Who sent you here?"

He ignored her and stared around at the others, then one stepped up and unmuzzled him, tying the rope around his neck in a noose, ready to tighten at the slightest provocation.

"Right, now you can talk. One wrong move and I pull on this and you can't breathe, so behave doggie."

If he could have raised an eyebrow he would have done, instead he opened his mouth wide in a yawn, feeling the rope tighten around his neck as he did so, all 42 teeth coming into view, the massive canines gleaming threateningly.

"Sent? Who else would have sent me? I dwell in the underworld, perhaps you should ask that one," he indicated the sleeping Hayden, "what he has done to offend his father."

The voice was low, deep, and echoed with an inherent darkness, there was an intelligence there, an alien intelligence, and a dark humour echoed behind the words.