2014.01.30:November's Fall
November's Fall | |
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This, gentlemen, as they say, is where the plot thickens | |
IC Date | January 30, 2014 |
IC Time | 8:00 P.M. |
Players | Velok (Storyteller - As Simon) and Axel and November |
Location | Scandaleaux, Prospect, CA |
Prp/Tp | And So It Begins |
Spheres | Mage and Shifter and Demon |
Log
(Enter November and Axel)
Everybody was jumpin' jumpin'. The club is poppin' poppin'. It's loud near the dance floor, with the house music flowing, but the farther away you get, towards the bars, it's dimmed enough for normal conversation. There's people all around. Nice innocent women dancing on their night off, slutty women dancing to find out where they're staying tonight, casual men dancing with people they took here, slutty men bumpin' and grinding on the slutty women, neckbeards with fedoras off to the side upset about how they're too nice and no one understands them. Basically everyone's having a good time. The bars are empty enough, but several tables near the bar have various people scattered on them. Some are filled by couples, others have just a lonely woman sitting down at them, others with a lonely guy. It's a club...
November is one of the nice innocent women dancing their night off. <Stop it! Yes she is!> She just needed to step back, unwind, chill out for a while. Just get away, have a drink <Beer from a bottle. That's all. And it never leaves her hand until it's empty> She's just DANCING. She's coming off the floor now. Time for another beer. It's up toward some of the quieter areas where she can think and her eyes can adjust.
What brings Axel to a place like this? Booze. The man needs to get himself something to drink and he moves through the crowd. He doen't have -too- much trouble most of those random folks tend to scoot just a little bit away from him as he wanders along. Heading over toward the bar he picks an open seat, you can spot those people that want to talk, those that are looking around leaning toward them's that walk by. Ya, he doesn't sit there. Instead he moves to lean against the bar and put in his order though he spots a figure from the corner of his eye. Looking over he ends up staring at Novemeber for a few moments... before it hits him. She's the chick from the Dive. He gives her a nod of the head in greeting, lifting his bottle up in turn while making that silent greeting.
People are coming and going from the club with relative ease. It's a large place, lots of noise, so it might be very easy to miss when a well-dressed man steps into club and makes his way near to the bar. He heads to one of the lonely women's tables and slips into the seat across from her. She stares back at the man before smiling, starting to talk to him.
Oh, look at that, one of the lonely men is getting up from the table. Apparently this just isn't his night, and he leaves a tip and turns to walk out. The beat shifts seamlessly into another song. Unce-Unce-Unce. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mKVL12XpLcg)
November is very much worth staring at. She is smokin' hot. She's an itty bitty ball of energy. Even though she's sitting at the bar, she still has that dancy body thing going on. She isn't looking to get laid. Might or might not be looking to talk to people, but her overall aura is approachable. A beer is slid her way and she slides it back, shaking her head. "Unopened, I said." She grabs a little keychain can opener from in her cleavage and waggles it. The bartender sighs and grabs her another one and slides it down, unopened. November does the deed herself, taking a swig, lifting the bottle to Axel and tucking it between her shapely little knees.
"What a fucking bitch." One of the lonely ladies says, standing up from the table and pocketing her cellphone, turning to leave the club at the same time as another well-dressed man enters. He weaves through the crowd, nothing but smiles, taking up a position at one of the lonely ladies tables. Just like before, the girl stares at the man, and then starts smiling and chatting.
Axel totally misses fancy pants and his getting shot down at the table over there. But then again he's not here to people watch he's here for a drink. Tipping his beer back he takes a gulp from it though he slides down a seat or two closer to Nova so he can speak to her over the booming music of the club, "Number two?" He asks her with a quirk of the brow it seems to be some sort of tease lofted back to her, then again he isn't sure if she even remembers their first meet... she was having trouble walking then. Dropping back into the seat there is a bit of room between them still as he looks around trying to find some bar mix set out that he can pilfer.
And Bar Mix there is! Peanuts and pretzels. Yum. How delicious one may find it, even as yet another man mysteriously finds his way towards a table, this time sitting down at a table across from a lonely guy. The guy stares at the man and his eyes widen, and then he's laughing and nodding.
The fucking bitch lifts her beer to the lonely lady and makes a smoochy face at her. Mostly because she knows she could get laid if that's what she was here to do. Her hazel eyes roam back to Axel as he speaks and she shakes her head, holding up four fingers. "You'd think he'd remember by now." There are too many seats between the two of them and that guy over there is eying her, so she moves over a little closer. At least she knows this jerk, right? Well, okay. Maybe he isn't a jerk, but in a place like this, it's always best to assume. "Where you been stranger?" Her eyes roam briefly and land on the man sneaking pictures of the sweaty chick and her eyes linger for just a moment, edging back and forth
The Spongebob song is over, which moves after a bit of Wikiwikiwiki from the DJ into (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gCYcHz2k5x0), Martin Garrix - Animals. The Crowd woops and everyone starts dancing that much harder. Some people on the other side of the club getting up and heading down to the dance floor already dancing. Plenty of cover as two more completely innocent, yet oddly well dressed with matching button up shirts, slip into the club and head to the dance floor with them.
Axel chuckles at her words though he does follow her gaze as she calls the other chik out. He doesn't got a clue what's going on there so he seems to pretty much leave it be. He takes a drink from his bottle and ponders the question, "Mmmm, around. Been busy. Looking for work, taking care of what I could find. You know, the usual." He offers though for some reason he finds that thought rather amusing. He ends up pulling over a little bowl of pretzels and he chomps on one of them before nudging it over toward Nova a bit if she wants them. "Yourself? You seem in better spirits then when I saw you last. Seem to be a bit better with the defying gravitiy too." He quips back with a chuckle.
November nods, her eyes skimming this way and that, frowning just a touch. SOMETHING is going on in her head. Her eyes click back and forth among all the well dressed people. This is a low cleavage, hight skirt place. "Mmmm.. yeah... Better. Much, actually." She's distracted, shaking her head as the pretzels come her way. "Bar pretzels... sweat from men's nuts where they scratch and adjust, they pick their nose, they breathe their ebola germs all over their hand, then reach for a pretzel because their breath smells like a ripe baby's ass? Nah. I got beer." Eyes roam back again, squinting just a touch.
The board is set, the pieces are moving, and so enters a new man. This man is different than everyone else, noticably. There's a sort of aura to him. Not a magical one, just classy as fuck. Way too overdressed for an establishment like this. He has a stark black business suit with a little blue pin on the left side. Underneath is a White striped dress shirt, buttons hidden by a dark black tie hanging down. The most noticable part of him is his face. East German from the look of it, short blonde frosted hair, eyes hidden behind pure black, circular sunglasses. There's a little uptick of his lips to reveal a smile. The man stands stoic as his gaze surveys the club, finally falling on the pair at the bar. Flanking him are two burly men of similar descent, though much more muscular. The man turns and walks towards the two at the bar, diverting off at the last second to lean against the bar several seats down from the two. The two men with him split off, one going to one end of the bar, the other going to the opposite end of the bar. (http://tinyurl.com/mdjlqu9)
Axel just -stares- at Nova for a few long moments and pushes the pretzels away from himself, "You're an ass." He tells her simply before washing his mouth out with one... two... three gulps of beer swished around in there. He can't even LOOK at the pretzels now, that was a low blow on her part. He seems to be shuddering about that too much to think about what the hell he's suppose to be paying attention to. See, clearly Nova's fault that he didn't see stuff. He eyes her a bit she has a rather distracted look on her features but he doesn't know why his attention is back upon his beer can one drink enough of that to wash away the mental image? He's going to try!
November can't help the smirk that slides over her face and she nods just a touch. "Welcome," she says, almost a purr, but she just can't take her eyes off those guys. She scoots over, killing the last seat between them, but she's still looking out over the crowd - theoretically. Her eyes keep going back to these same guys over and over and over again. She FROWNS suddenly and shakes her head. She slides to her feet and sort of cuddles up to Axel. "Do those guys look weird to you? Out of place?" It's a soft little whisper in his ear, but her nails dig ever so slightly into his arm
Simon, the dastardly well dressed man of mysterious nature, leaves his glasses on in the club. Doesn't take an alertness check to see how weird that is. The bartender delivers a beer to the man, and Simon takes it, bringing the beverage to his lips. There's no smile on his face, but there is a slight motion of his head. With that motion, the man at the far end of the bar starts to move, walking closer to Axel and November and standing a foot behind them. Simon pushes off the bar and moves, his posture perfect, his gait a seamless glide in his movements. He walks to stand behind the bigger, muscular bodyguard but towards the middle, 4 feet behind Axel and November at the bar. He can easily be seen now, and when he talks, he can be easily heard. "I had two pigeons, bright and gay, fly from me the other day." His head tilts and those black sunglasses look to November, staring at her. "Why was it they did go? You cannot tell, you do not know."
Axel just gives Nova a GLARE it's one of those 'I'm going to murder your soul' looks and he gives them -well-. But then she's sliding down further pressing against his side he frowns and looks downa t his arm which is now being clawed! Oh woe is him! But then he looks back over to Simon and his friends as they start scooting in on him, the look is clear on Axel's face, he doesn't like that. He puts his back to the wall in almost any room he's in, nervous habit one could say but then he's talking. Kind of. The man turns a bit so he can put his back to the bar with Novemeber beside him, raising his beer up to his lips he adds in the most eloquint of manners, "Cause you're the gay one and they were actually straight. Happens in prison all the time." He chimes out so helpfully to him the smirk now tugging full across his lips as he tips his beer back for a drink.
Aw HELL nah. Let's break out some Jerry Springer bullshit up in dis plaze, yo! November, when the man starts to speak, reaches over to grab the bowl of pretzels full of nut sweat and boogers and ebola and FLINGS it AT HIS FUCKING HEAD. PLOINK! Oh. Lookit the blood. Deadly aim. She GRABS Axel... well.. she has a hold of him anyway. If he doesn't come with her, he might get a little bloody. She just doesn't want them SURROUNDING her.
There's a happy little smile pulling onto Simon's face as he stands there, the man's hands folding in the crook of his back. He stands in a relaxed, military stance, evident of Krav Maga. His eyes are currently on November, and as she reaches in to grab those pretzels he doesn't resist. Most of them hit the man Simon's standing behind, but some hit Simon. He seems like it's more of an annoyance than anything, not even reaching up to the indents on his head. Luckily his awesomely cool glasses are ok. "No. Stop. Don't." Simon responds, very wonka-esque, but the man and him step aside, allowing November and Axel to retreat should they wish, stop being surrounded. They can go any direction they want, however it's not too far before Simon is speaking again. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting such cowardly behavior. Though I do suppose, gutting a lonely naked old man doesn't take much skill. Poor Smitty. Useless overall." The other henchman pulls away from the pair and goes to stand in front of Simon instead, allowing enough room for the man to still speak and address the pair, but direct attacks would be difficult.
"Ow. The hell has gotten into you woman." Axel snaps back at her while she's clawing up his arm and dragging him away! "I was drinking my beer dammit." Apparently that's more important then the creep-o here. His brow quirks at the words from Simon and he looks to Nova, "Hold up, fucker is writing checks with his mouth his ass ain't gonna be able to cash." He damn near GROWLS the rage is practically boiling off of him his eyes narrow while he glares back at Simon and his thugs then glance back to Novemeber as he snaps, "You best watch who you call a coward, suit." He is only tugged outside their ring before Nova is going to have to start TUGGING at him if she wants him to budge any further.
November ROLLS her eyes at Axel and gives him a little TUG. "DUDE. Do you not SEE this shit? Bunch of goddamn freaks. And they're chasing after kids and shit. And they're kind of SURROUNDING me. And I don't like that. Like.. NOT at all. Not even a little bit. I don't LIKE it when people surround me." She reaches into her bra and takes out a little bundle of.. something and pop
Simon raises his hand dismissively towards Axel, his smile fading into that neutral face again. He motions towards November, the original idea behind running away from the surrounding movements. "Birds of a feather flock together, so do pigs and swine. Rats and mice have their chance, as shall I have mine." The club music is still pumpin' and jumpin', and so far no one has noticed the strangeness of the situation. Everything is completely normal except for that smile peeling onto Simon's face again. He leans forward, between his two henchmen bodyguards, and reaches up. His hand tugs lightly on the sunglasses, revealing his eyes to the pair. They look normal, except where their is color surrounding the pupil, it's just black, as if there was no Iris, simply pupil. "This gentlemen, as they say, is where the plot thickens." Just as Simon says that, the record slips, that familiar noise that would otherwise cause cringing, but always seems to be used in comical Hollywood moments when things need to freeze-frame. The previous song that was playing is quickly replaced with (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FC2ms7NB_es&feature=youtu.be&t=1m30s), much to the confusion and chagrin of the people previously on the dance floor. Simon seems to love it, his fingers pushing those glasses back into place and hand hovering, dancing along with the movement like a conductor. "It was fun. I enjoyed it, but now you're in my way. I don't like it when people are in my way. People get hurt." Simon pauses, raising his eyebrows. "Oh not you. Not yet. No, others." His hand motions towards one of the dining tables continuing that dance. If the motion is followed, the pieces fall into place. One of the men from earlier that sat down with the lonely woman brings his hand above the table, in it a very clearly defined black Glock, pointing directly at the woman. Simon's hand continues to move over to another table, the next henchmen bringing his gun over the table, pointed directly at the lonely-man. A third follows suit, pointing at another woman. "And then, the dance floor?" Simon says, starting to sway lightly to the cute music, even as he motions down towards the dance floor. An easy glance shows a man on each side of the dance floor, leaning against the railing, carrying an Uzi that they flash upon signal, but then cover up. The dancers in the floor, the victims at the table, a veritable blood bath awaits.
Axel lets out a snort at the words from Simon, "And I give two shits about any of them -because-?" He says with a shake of the head though his eyes look back toward Nova and he stares at her a bit, "Then drop one and there'll be a hole. Simple as that. They go after kids just means they ain't worth shit." But his eyes are locking back onto Simon lips pulling into a grin while looking over the man, "So you're finished? Well then allow me to retort. Don't know why you're playing this game of 'boohoo bystanders' but I don't care. I'm going to enjoy putting a round through your fucking glasses." A grin pulling further across his lips as his arms fold across his while his jacket seems to pull apart a little from the gesture. His eyes flick toward those various men around them and he snorts again, "And if you think you're little gang of boyfriends is going to do you any good, well they can just get the fuck in line." He quips back before letting out a snort as he glares back toward Simon, Nova seems to have slipped from his mind for now it's this one who keeps insulting him that has his FULL attention.
What the FUCK is she supposed to do now? THis is NOT SOP. Wait. SOP.. What IS SOP now? She isn't sure. SHe doesn't KNOW HOW THESE FUCKING PEOPLE WORK! Goddamn it! She holds her position, peering back and forth between Axel and the others. Crunch crunch crunch. Beer.
"How colorful." Simon responds, continuing to sway to the music. "Though I suppose if you don't actually care, there's nothing I can really force you to care about. It would be a tragedy though, all these deaths. These boohoo'd bystanders. Such pretty faces, unfortunately killed by that annoying little man that couldn't keep his little gun in his little pants." Simon does seem to be enjoying himself at least, even if the music stops. Quickly another house party song is added, the weirdness of the scene being calmed in the dancers minds as they start swaying to the new beat as well. "Of course you wouldn't be able to enjoy it for very long, since then the failsafe would activate, and this whole place goes up in a puff of smoke." Simon puffs out his cheeks, expelling air and letting his fingers mime an explosion, expanding out to indicate its size. He doesn't seem to be bluffing. "Besides, what I really want is to meet you. Both of you." That gaze turns to both of them, the sunglasses hiding his eyes once more. "Just to be able to get a wonderfully good look at you with my own eyes." His gaze falls on November, and lips pull into yet another smile. "Billy and Suzie say hello, by the way. I expect..." His arm raises and the suit is pulled up a little, revealing a watch. "Right...about..now. No tracker needed this time. Children, so lovely. Always go to the same spots."
"You got a big fucking mouth, suit." Axel snaps a sneer tugging at his lips while he grabs the side of his jacket and tugs it out a bit, showing what's under the left side, "Gun is here." He points out strapped into the shoulder holster the Glock 23 tucked in there neatly well maintained but still snapped in. He shrugs his shoulders though and scratches the under side of an arm the glint of a knife flicking out in his palm, "But I think I'd rather have some fun with you before that point. Come'er pretty boy, I'll help you get those eyes out." He quips back with a snort. He could care less about the children at the moment right now he just wants to start carving into his flesh.
WHAT the heavenly fuck? This is so way terribly far off SOP that November just sort of stands there, dumbstruck. Eyes flick to Suit. There is a pang of regret about the children. Her eyes flick to Axel. She has her own knife concealed pretty well and that's .. not a toy. Bitch is guaranteed to do agg to ANYTHING. Even ghosts if you can find them. Of course, hacking and slashing at the air to FIND the ghosts is a little silly. Mostly just leave them alone unless they attack. BUT! She stands silent, waiting for... whatever. React. Sigh. She HATED reacting. It never ended well.
"How feisty! I love it! They told me you were the fiesty one. Or huh." Simon actually looks ponderous, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. "Or was..hmm. Were you the fat disgusting one? Or the faggot standing on the wall? Bah, no matter. All the same to me." That glint though, that glint is absolutely observed, and Simon smiles again. "Ooo, I like Knives! So fun, so slow. Quiet too, do you want to see mine?" His fingers snap and one of the men, the one that was previously sitting at the table with Lonely-girl has risen quickly and advanced around the table, grabbing his hostage by her hair and yanking her hand back. In an easy motion he soon has a knife pressed against her throat, glaring at the two people. This all causes Simon to chuckle, nodding. "So much fun, so much fun. You aren't the one that was standing on the wall. What did he say his name was? Bah, I can't remember. V something. Who knows these days. Doesn't matter anyway." Simon brings his watch back up and checks it again. "Oh! I missed it, oh darn. Well, yep. He's dead by now, I sent special people for him. Couldn't find the fat trucker though, oh well. He's probably dead in a ditch somewhere." Simon trails off, clapping his hands together again, the entire scene being framed by the house music going strong, the people dancing in the crowd, completely oblivious. "So! Here's what's going to happen. Do you like this part? I do. What we're going to do is head outside, and there's a lovely wonderful van waiting. Or..." Simon raises his finger to his throat, dragging it across. Simon adds on after dragging his finger across. "Non-Compliance will result in a penalty."
Oh that IS the play knife. The REAL knife... the one that slices through shit like it's air and bursts into flame to boot, that one doesn't come out for threats. That one comes out when it's about to go in someone's eye. Slowly flicking his thumb against the edge of the blade he toys with it feeling the sharp edge. He grins to himself peeking over his shoulder that way for a moment before asking, "Ooooh, does that mean we get to play target practice?" There is another *SIGH* that rolls from Axel, "How many freaking times do I have to tell you. She means nothing to me." He says with a nod of the head before looking back to Simon with a grin, "YOU on the other hand. Well if you're going to be in the van, by all means lead the way, suit." He leans in a touch and asks in a softer voice, "Though... seems a bit of an injustice if you kill her trying to get at me. Perhaps you want to let the girl go so we can head out." He offers with a shrug of the shoulders as a smile ticks across his lips before looking back over to Nova, oh what do you know she's still there! Then back to Simon, "You want her too? She's the kind to chop it off though I'm guessing if you whip it out. Just a warning. Probably has a cigar cutting on her person somewhere."
It isn't true. It is NOT true. It's a lie and she knows, in her heart of hearts that it's a lie because she would KNOW. THat takes the edge off of things, lets her narrow her focus. Lets her not be QUITE so scattered. This guy here clearly isn't going to listen to HER instincts. Nope. Not a chance, so she'll step back and let him lead. She seems to be unarmed, but there's that thrumming vibration that runs through her just like it always does after she takes the pills. When there's no action going on. She blinks a couple of times and takes a breath or two to calm those edgy nerves. She's smooth though. She's graceful. She holds still as much as she can and just waits it out.
Axel leans in and Simon leans in with him, nodding several times. "Means nothing to you, yea. I suppose I can see that. She means nothing to me either. I guess I was wrong. I'll let her go..." Is that remorse pulling on his eyebrows as Simon raises a hand. Those black sunglasses continue to stare at the man as Simon's raised hand turns to a thumbs down. Without hesitation the tip of the knife is pressed into the side of the woman's throat. There's no noise, the action being too quick, severing those vocal chords and arteries as the knife drags along her throat, splitting the poor woman's throat wide open. A bit of a gurgle as that trachea is exposed to air, the blood starting to poor out of the wound and stream down her chest. She'd chosen that dress special tonight, hoping to meet a man she can settle down with, possibly fall in love or be happy for once, and now it's stained red as the life is drawn out of her, those last few breaths before the henchmen presses her head forward, partially closing the wound as the woman slumps in the chair, lifeless. "......Right to hell!" Simon's lips curl up into a smile again, the man doing a rather overexaggerated fistpump, then raising his hands to rest on both of his henchmen's shoulders. The two men move to stand arm to arm, making only Simon's face now visable. "Delicious, isn't it? I bet she had dreams too. MMM!" The two remaining hostages's eyes widen as they see their mortality flashing, the remaining female starting to actively tear up and cry. Simon doesn't seem to care at all, motioning a hand out towards the exit. The henchmen that slit the woman's throat smiles, leaning down to wipe the blade off on her dress, then pocket it again in favor of his gun, turning to walk towards the exit. "Please. I insist. After you two." Didn't anyone see that? No? The bartender is gone, and it seems like no one's going to find the blood soaked body for a little bit.
Axel looks over as he watches the woman die and he lets out a sigh before his voice drops... the chilling part is he sounds CALM for the first time. His eyes settle upon Simon there is RAGE boiling there as he speaks his voice is cool, "Do you do much reading, suit? A lot of cultures used to have something of an unspoken rule, you are gracious to your guest, treat them well because it could be a God testing them. There is a key lesson to be learned from that, don't fuck with people you don't know enough about for you are never as safe as you think." That is all he says stopping he just stares at the henchmen that killed the woman in cold blood. Watching him, eyes study his features it's the look of someone burning a face into his memory the look of a target being aquired. He killed Smitty because he was an asshole/pervert, it was almost a whim. This, this just tripped a personal line for him as he lets out a slow breath. "Common, Six." He says to Nova and just walks toward the door before telling her, "That one is mine." He says simply while he walks heading toward the door he doesn't seem to even twitch while he walks.
November doesn't look. Doesn't blink either. One death. Ten. Greater good. It was unfortunate, sure. Death always sucks. She remains silent, watching, her eyes go from one person to the other, and waits for her cue. Six. Aaaw. She had a nickname. Six, it was. Six turns, nodding briefly to Axel. It was absurd, really, the difference in size between the two of them. Truth is, November could take down just about any human in the place. "All yours then," she tells him, moving along right beside him.
(Scene shifts to alley outside club, and Exit Simon. Combat begins with 4 henchmen)
As they walk past, the two men at the tables do nothing, though one does rest the gun gently on the table. "Oh, he is dead then?" Simon can be heard saying as everyone starts to walk. "Oh, excellent, and it was Velok? Good riddance." It's a strange procession, Henchmen #1 leading the way out the club doors, hiding the weapons for now. Then follow Axel and November, then followed by X more henchmen, including the two big ones that were standing in front of Simon. As they proceed outside Henchman #1 leads them into an alleyway off to the side. Once Axel and November turn to look into the alleyway though, they can see it ends in a dead end. There's no van around, but now there are some henchmen blocking the exit to the alleyway. Henchmen #1's phone rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket, answering it and putting it on speakerphone. "Sorry ladies! I'm soooooo changeable!" Comes that familiar voice of Simon, and a quick look back verifies that apparently, admit the hustle and bustle, the blonde haired sunglassed man didn't make it out with them. "No van, not for you. It was fun at first, but now you're just in my way. Toodles!" The way those henchmen are set up, it's combat time, henchmen #1 closing his phone and smiling at the pair, pulling that knife back out.
"When someone is responsible for injustice, make sure someone pays." Axel says while he tugs open the right side of his jacket reaching in the soft rasp of metal upon leather can be heard as he withdraws a WICKED looking knife. To call it a knife though... this is a KNIFE, even Mr. Dundee would appreciate. Slowly he starts to walk toward the other man his blood pounding while rage BOILS off of him if any of these men are simple humans they will feel DAMN twitchy. "You will suffice for someone." He growls his body tense as he close that distance, wonder what's about to happen to him for pissing off the rat!
November has a... cute little knife. It's not very big. It's small enough, in fact, to be tucked up under her skirt. There is a flash of panty as she tugs it out of the sheath. It's CUTE. And little. Just like her. She's calm and collected, though, and as she scans the scene, she moves toward the two that Axel doesn't go after. Pretty comical, really. She's not even five foot tall!
Even while #3 and #4 advance on November, rotating so they can attack from diagonal, November is still faster. She rips #3's body, causing him to shout an exasperated sudden pain and reach up to his chest with his free hand. At the same time, November stabs at #4, bringing that silver dagger and slicing deep. Both of the men in pain, their own slashes miss pathetically, November easily able to duck and twist away from them. Axel's is much more interesting. Henchman #1 thought he had the advantage, he stood there ready to stab at the shittalker. Axel was prepared, and as Axel wielded that dagger like a cunning surgeon, it flares up. Henchmen #1 had no hope, no chance, as he felt that fire dagger sink directly into his belly. The action causes #1 to drop his knife in surprise, the smooth grin fading from his face as fast as the blood does, causing the henchman to drop to his knees and press his hands to his belly, trying to hold the blood in. Henchman #2 is happier, seeing that he has the clear advantage. He slashes and actually lands a blow despite Axel's twisting, though the strength of the slash is not nearly strong enough to break Axel's soak.
Sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you don't. Axel's gaze is cold as he looks to the henchman with a snarl pulling over his lips, "I wonder. Were her thoughts the same as yours?" He asks his voice a growl of rage and hate for the man. As that knife is withdrawn from his stomach the flame is gone. That flash of light left to make them all wonder just what the hell HAPPENED. Either way number one is down and that knife from the other seems to catch on something. Maybe it was part of his shoulder harness, who knows but whatever it was, Henchman number two now has a rather pissed off Axel looking back to him and a dagger to silence him with.
Tiny little fists of FUCKING FURY! She doesn't do MUCH damage, but goddamn, you poke someone full of enough holes, they will EVENTUALLY die. Right? That's what November's hoping for. "And if he's dead, so help me, by the power of God's left nut, I will find a way to ressurrect you and kill you AGAIN!"
Oh, Axel is PISSED. Insulted. Belittled. Practically spit upon. The man is a Warrior for the Rat, a Blade Slave, he's not going to put up with that shit! Then while he's busy turning H1's entrails into his extrails that little bastard behidn him tried to stab him! Fucking cowards calling HIM one!? Oh he's not playing around anymore he's SEETHING, "You fucking little shit. While my back is turned?" His voice is quiet as he growls those words to him and with a flash of the blade H2's throat opens up squirting blood and gurgling as he strops to his knees bleeding out on the ground as it rushes from him unable to even take in air as he lays in a pool of his own blood. "Where the FUCK is that little bitch in the glasses!" His voice rising as that rage bleeds into the calm of combat. This is why we can't have nice things, or let Axel take the prisoners because instead of waiting for an answer Nova will spot a blade blooming from H4's chest. Axel stabs clean through the man, the flat of the blade sticking through his ribs and with a grunt he tugs it laterally tearing through his body before it's pulled free again. Another dropping to the ground and his eyes latch onto H3, "YOU." Is all the Warrior says the blood of the other three dripping from the point of his wicked dagger. Slice, swish! She's grazed, but doesn't bleed, rocking back at the last minute so it catches only her shirt and leaves a little red mark across her belly. "Fucking A!" Mother fucker. Then Axel is doing his thing and then he's rushing in to take care of her shit, too. H3? No. FUCK that. He's going down. She lunges and misses and pretty boy takes off toward the mouth of the alley. November snarls with tiny rage and lumbers after him.
It all seemed perfect for the henchmen. Two to one odds, everything going great. Then the first one went down in one brilliant hit. Undeterred, they were, until watching the second one go down. The fourth died and the third couldn't take it anymore, and he was off to the races. H3 is running for his life, and he quickly turns the corner. The duo are riding so high, after having defeated the enemy, chased off Simon, and saved the day. Time seems to slow for November as she reaches the end of that alleyway, watching the heels of H3's military boots pad off around the corner with her in hot pursuit. It's too late for the mistake to be recognized, for the realization to come crashing down, but it was always there. Around the corner steps that man in the black suit, the black sunglasses and blonde hair almost mocking. There's a smile on his face, that flash of white teeth the last thing she needs to see at the time, the glint of the long dagger flashing in his right hand. It's too late for anyone to stop, Simon's left hand rising and allowing the girl to crash into his body, all while bringing that right hand up. It doesn't feel like what she'd always expected at first. In fact, it doesn't feel like much of anything. Just the squish as the dagger is driven straight through her clothes, past the little notch of her ribcage and buried into her heart. "Sssshhhh." He says as he practically hugs the woman against his chest, while firmly driving the dagger directly through her heart. "How wonderfully metaphoric, isn't it? I killed him, tonight. That must have broken your heart, didn't it, and now I get to break it for real." He twists, ensuring the damage is done. His hand reaches up to enclose in the tresses of her hair, pulling her head back so she has to stare up into those sunglasses, leaning in and planting a disgusting kiss on her forehead. "Time to join him." The force of the object in motion coming to a sudden rest, dagger shoving into her heart, is enough to push her back away. Not enough to have her fall down, but enough so that as soon as he popped around that corner he's back around it, quick and sudden footsteps before the screeching of tires. The black van drives past, giving people in the alley one last glimpse of that man staring straight at them before the van door is shut and being driven off. The knife itself is still there, still buried in November's heart, having entered like a hot knife through butter.
But I'm not dead yet! Flesh wound. Whiskey. Velok... Velok... Whiskey. This isn't how it was supposed to end. Not at ALL! She Her eyes go wide as she realizes what's going on, but she's gotten up too much momentum. She runs RIGHT into that damn dagger and she reaches for him. She fights still, her hands coming up to wrap around his throat as she tries.. just one more time... to summon that energy. <<Heal me. Come on, you stupid cocksucker. Where the fuck are you now, HUH? I'm DYING over here..>> Her avatar understands fate far, far better than November does and it closes its eyes, quietly ignoring the girl who just never quite got it, maybe never deserved it. It had tried a time or two to bring her around. Healing the deep slashes on her wrists when she passed out in the tub from blood loss, bringing her back to life five different times. The book. It had led her to the book that told it all, but she had followed that idiot blindly and protected him and now here she was at the end of the line. Her hands squeeze around the man's throat, but there's no power there and her hands swiftly fall away. She is still on her feet when he pulls away from her, but it doesn't last long. She steps back, throws her arms out to the side for balance, stumbles, keeps her feet. She just keeps ... keeps going. She has things to live for again. Goddamn it. It isn't right. It isn't fair. She sucks in a breath that sounds wet and reaches, pulling the long dagger from her chest and no doubt that starts the blood positively gushing and she rocks back a time or two, still trying to hold her balance, but then her foot comes down wrong. "Ow..." she mumbles and THEN she's falling. And falling. And falling.
THAT VOICE! "SUIT!" Axel damn near bellow then the van is tearing away down the street by the time he tugs the glock out the damn thing is gone. He mutters and shoves it back into it's holster and looks back at H1 moving over he wipes the blood off on his shoulder a smile tugging at his lips, "Tell me. Do you think she was afriad when she died?" It's almost a whisper as he lets out a soft growl then there is... is that smoke? It's flaring up from behind H1... his fucking clothes just caught fire burning his (suit jacket? Shirt? whatever the hell he's wearing) hardly strong enough to hold in his guts the ratkin sheathes the blade he steps on H2 to avoid the puddle of blood, using his corpse like a stepping stone as the Blade Slave leaves the other too his fate. "Six? The fuck did you get off to now? That asshole just drove... off..." his voice trailing out as he makes the exit of the alley. He blinks a couple times, she's there, she's on the ground... and that's a knife in a BAD spot. "Fuck... fuck... this is why I need a fucking Seer with me, shit, shit, shit." He is muttering to himself moving over he drops down next her his fingers moving to try and find a pulse, "Hey! Stupid! You're not suppose to get stabbed." His bedside manner... about a negative five on a scale of one to ten the warrior doesn't seem to understand HOW to react but he's starting try and run through that check list of what he's suppose to do. "I should have paid more attention to fucking combat medicine."
ThumpThump. ThumpThump. ThumpThump. ThumpThump. The rhythm gets weaker and weaker as that heart tries so hard to keep going. The knife at least sealed the wound, even if it sealed her fate. It's a slow death, but oddly, there's no pain. The body is already in shock, already going slightly numb. ThumpThump. ThumpThump. ThumpThump. Time is running out. Each breath gets harder and harder to take. Already the non-vital organs are shutting down, hanging their hat on the proverbial coathanger and calling it a day. There should be pain. It makes sense that there should be pain. This is dying. This is what dying feels like, yet it feels so peaceful. Despite the fact that she's in an alleyway, outside a club, the only man nearby that can comfort her a Ratkin that doesn't care about people. Did the temperature rise? It's warm, weirdly warm. Maybe the sun is coming up, maybe somebody is holding her, or maybe the blood from her leaking heart is filling her chest cavity, causing that illusion of warmth. They say that you live out your memories right before death. That your life flashes before your eyes, your successes and your failures, your story, laid out like a montage, as your synapses randomly fire, trying to hold onto that essence of life. The highlights play for November as she falls onto her back, staring up at the sky. The stars, they're beautiful tonight K. You ever just look at them?
There should be something profound to say her. Tell Grandma I love her or some bullshit like that. But the blood is already welling up in her lungs and she, incredibly, doesn't want to cough blood in this man's face. Her eyes are wide, but there aren't tears. She's still aware of what's going on around her. Why does her ankle hurt more than her chest? But this was the dream all over again, wasn't it? Only in reverse. It wasn't Whiskey or Velok or Suzie or Johnny or mom or dad or anyone else she's ever loved that that monster was chasing. It was HER. And he GOT her. And she couldn't save herself. She was never very good at saving herself. Memories do flash. Little ones. Sitting on the porch and eating icecream with her friend when they were eight. Dad beating the shit out of mom right in front of her because she was fucking around on him and her going to get the gun and blowing him away while the blood splattered little 12 year old November. That might have been the beginning of the end for her. She was more fascinated than terrified by the hole in his head. She'd helped mom hide the body. Whiskey, dashing and handsome, pushing her on the swing, higher and higher while she leaned back, almost upside down, a laugh rolling from her. True happiness. Pain. Anger. Fear. That dark closet in Omaha where she spent four days and finally broke out when she was almost certain that she was going to die of dehydration. She got the book. Got the key. Got to Whiskey. Saved him. Saved him from the black wolves. Saved him from the wraiths. Saved him after he took out the demons in Kentucky. Saved him... no. She didn't save him that time. He died. Velok saved her. Brought her life. The anger, the rage all boils up and her heart beats faster, harder, sealing her fate that much quicker. She manages to tear her eyes away from the stars and looks at Axel, whom she doesn't recognise. "Tell ....." She turns her head to cough up the blood because it really IS gross. ".... sorry......" Then come the tears. She's fading. She knows it. But she has something to SAY, dammit. She isn't READY for this. She was going to be okay, though. She was. She was FINE. It was just....... She takes a breath and it's more blood than air and she shakes her head and just clings to whatever's there, her fingers digging into his arm as her eyes widen slightly and she shakes her head.
Axel snaps his fingers before her eyes as she starts to drift like that, "HEY! Six dammit get your fucking head on straight we got people to kill!" Cause you can totally yell someone back to health... the Blade Slave is starting to lose it a bit. He HATES feeling helpless, he liked this woman, hadn't spent a lot of time with her but enough she didn't cringe or hide but quipped back at him. "Just hold on. Fuck..." he looks down the alley... three corpses that's not going to look good. Oh well, town wasn't the great to start with. His hand fumbles and he tugs out his phone. He tears off his jacket, bunched up and slipped under her head, at least she doesn't have to let it rest on the sidewalk. "I'll get ya an ambulance. They'll fix you up proper then you can tell whoever, whatever." He says with a nod makes sense to him, then again his 'logic' isn't exactly logic right now. Would make sense, sure, if she didn't have a dagger through her heart. There is no fixing that. "You'll be on the mend and I'll go cut that fucker's head from his neck." He promises to her it's the best the ratkin can do he doesn't know HOW to handle this. He's seen comrades fall but hell he's never had one die in his lap before. He's suppose to say SOMETHING better that that, suppose to reassure them it's all gonna be alright but damn is he out of his depths here. "Just hang in there Six."
They're so vivid, so real, yet so far from what's happening that she can only observe. ThumpThump ThumpThump. The words are too hard to say, they never really come out right. Even in life they always seemed to be so hard to say, and in death it's no different. Her heart beating is so vivid in her ears, a full reminder of what's left. Despite Axel's attempts, despite everything, that heart is slowing. It's peaceful, now. Maybe she'll go to heaven. Maybe she'll go to hell, with the things she's done. Maybe he'll be there. Maybe nothing will be there and all those dumb athiests were right. Almost on instinct those eyes start to close, start to fall, so heavy. Thump. It's time to sleep, now. Sleep and be happy, let all the worries wash away. Her ears are still working, even as the final synapses fire, the final neurons stop acting. 'Just hang in there Six.' fades, becoming but a whisper. Soon it's over, the last heartbeat, the last breath, of this life. Here lies November Lewis, in the arms of Axel Hunt, Dead on Arrival.
And that's when Asmodyl makes its move. That last breath. The eyes closing. That last breath. That last heartbeat. A perfect host. Sad, depressed, with so much potential for joy. For renewal. She was perfect. The air around November begins to glow, eveloping her, Axel. It becomes bright. Brighter than bright. Brighter than the sun. Darker than a black hole. The bright emptiness that is this form. Raven wings enfold November and a soft, passive, almost saintly smile beams up at Axel. "If you'll excuse me." The voice is pure, resonant, clean. In she goes. Seconds go by. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. A breath. November lurches there on the sidewalk, her back arching, blood spewing from her mouth as she coughs, the tear in her heart sealing over, the skin closing along behind it. She rolls, still coughing, groaning just a little bit, curling up into a tiny, bloody little ball as she coughs all that nasty out of her lungs.
Axel doesn't know WHAT to do he can tell that time is running out he knows that no ambulance could get here in time and that there is nothing he can do for her. That last breath he doesn't seem to even notice he's holding his own. Sure he doesn't give two shits about the random peons in the club... but this could very well have been a friend dying right here in his arms. "Shit... shit... shit..." he whispers under his breath. Then his eyes start to grow a little wider as taht light, that power starts to swirl around the area, "Fuck is this!?" He snarls his hand tugging that pain dagger free from it's sheath once more holding it cross guard before himself as his eyes narrow. The Blade Slave doesn't understand, so he has the knee jerk human reaction, STAB WHAT YOU DON'T GET. Well... at least he doesn't try to lash out at this essence yet. Blinking that look it almost stuns him, it's not what he expected, is it a spirit? Could be. Seems like one in many ways... but different. "The hell ARE you?" Then... she's coughing? She's breathing! "What the hell! Six? Are you fucking alive?" He asks her, right, cause that's totally something to answer with a dagger driven into her heart and this strange presence bringing her round once more. He doens't know... should he take the blade out? Leave it there? He just watches her in confusion.
November lays there for a moment or two more, still coughing. "This... going to hurt...." She reaches up slowly, just like in the movies and she grabs the hilt of the dagger and she pulls. And she pulls. And she pulls. How long is this thing? She actually has to grasp the blade to finish pulling it out, then she groans some more. "That FUCKING HURTS!" She screams it, but it's an odd mingling of November and that ... other... and then she lays there panting and gasping. The THING didn't answer his question, of course. She was sort of busy stepping in and taking over this fragile human body. The dagger clatters to the ground and she pushes herself up to a sitting position, looking down at herself. There is a ragged hole to one side and a slash across the middle of her dress and what the hell was she wearing? And why did her ankle hurt and what was a Velok and why couldn't she.... She spins, blood still dripping from the corners of her mouth. "Don't tell Velok." It's a simple command. She doesn't know exactly why she said it, but ... it was that.. other... that was still there inside her that didn't want him to know.
Axel just... STARES. Because the hell else does one do when a magic glow-y lady thing with raven wings shoves itself inside your dead friend and then your dead friend pops back to life!? Cause if there is a book for that he needs to read it. She's pulling out the dagger though... so that solves that! His eyes flick over her while she sits up and he he still has no idea what the hell is going on but then she says that and he blinks a couple times, "Velok? Fuck Velok why don't we tell Axel what the hell is going on!?" He asks her that bit of frustration showing as he asks not having a clue what in the name of all that's good and sane in this world is happening. He looks to her... the blood on the ground, then back up ot her again, "The fuck was that thing!? You were dead... you had a dagger in your... I'm guessing heart. Then you just pulled it -out- what the fuck is going on!?" His voice rising a bit as he watches her his gaze locked onto her as least he's put that wicked looking knife away as he stares back to her.
"Peace," November murmurs, her voice soft, melodic, her eyes almost hypnotic little swirls. Definitely not November's pretty little hazel eyes. "I'm a little disoriented. Give me a moment. Please." She closes her eyes, sitting there still, her fingers rubbing slowly over her bloody chest as the memories from this host start to filter in, mingling, tempering her own. "Axel... yes. You just.. slew three men, but one escaped and sh-- I..went chasing after. And that thing got pushed through my heart. Yes. Yes, it's starting to come back." Her eyes roam over to him with those little swirls of hazel mixed with a faint tinge of red. "We mean you no harm, Axel."
Axel blinks a couple times, watching her, "Well being dead will do that." He says with a snort as he watches her as she speaks he tries to keep himself calm not having a clue what in the world is going on. Then she starts speaking and his gaze locks upon her own those eyes are shifting colors and it's starting to freak him out his hand skiming up his side to hold to the dagger there. "Who the -fuck- is we!?" He asks her slowly rolling back a touch he is no longer kneeling there but rather crouched, tense while his eyes bore back into her. Looking her over from head to toe he lets out a slow growl as he watches her, "You ain't her are you. What the fuck ARE you?" He growls while his other wrist gives a little flick freeing the dagger that was tucked up his sleeve to drop the throwing knife into it.
(Majority Story over, log completion pending on November and Axel's conversation)