2018.09.06: Rooftop Rampage
| Rooftop Rampage | |
|---|---|
| Unexpected Visitor after a SWAT Response. | |
| IC Date | Thursday, September 6th, 2018 |
| IC Time | 2:30 pm PDT. |
| Players | August von Heidelburgh, Faith, Merek, Sander, Lleutrim, Xenovia, Jael, Dragomir |
| Location | Rooftop Near Docks and Metro |
| Spheres | Garou Gaian Fera Bastet Kinfolk Law |
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Location: Abandoned pair of buildings in the Dock/Metro District
Just after lunch rush, traffic is finally settling down on the edge of the thin neighborhood that slides between the coastal shipyards and the metro downtown. It's a decrepit neighborhood with a plethora of gang activity. That's probably why Faith was out on the tactical team again. A couple pin-neat shots from the rooftop, body bags, no collateral damage. Just "Fucking paperwork." Donahue is sitting on the rooftop by herself with the clipboard, her gear still in place and her back to a corner of brick walls. She told the team she'd meet them back at the station, but her habit is to complete as much of the preliminary report on site as possible in case there are details she'd otherwise miss. "Fucking stripes." And to judge from her irritable tone, no fucking for Faith any time recently.
No fucking, no violence. But that hasn't stopped August from either - nor has it stopped him from keeping tabs on the woman he'd invaded; in more than one way. The King of Killers moves with the total silence of a ghost, dressed nicely in ash-colored slacks, vest, and blood-red long-sleeved shirt. Like he's going to a wedding...or a funeral.
Silently, the killer moves behind her, bare feet dirty from the road - head freshly shaven, with only the black hairs on top. Greying. Like Cable was his fucking barber. There's a second the air quality changes - his scent there, that scent from that night, when her world changed and even her well guarded home was made unsafe..
..then a vice-like grip clenches down on the back of Faith's neck, nails biting into the flesh. Then a voice, like distant thunder rumbles beside her ear: "Detective."
Her body's less than casual reaction happens faster than she can even formulate thought. Though Faith had thought she's been back far enough against the brick walls to keep it from happening, there she is. It's not fear, or even flight that stirs in her belly - it's that intensity of the sensual, undeniable wanton lust. Her flesh grows warmer under the clench, her chest tighter. Every muscle in her body vibrating for a moment to the siren call.
The kinswoman exhales slowly, her pen in one hand and the clipboard still in the other. A conscious effort not to draw on the beast that holds her. She gestures to the radio first with the end of the pen, notifying him of her intention to turn it off. Faith leaves her other hand on the board which rises to the right, staying within easy line of sight and away from her duty belt. Once the radio has been clicked to silence, she answers quietly "It's Sergeant now."
The grip never lightens. How he got there matters so much less than, that a Lord of Sunlight is holding her by the back of her neck. At any time, the knives could unsheathe from his fingertips and end her.
Ahnru's amber gaze undresses her, and though she wears uniform - he stares over her naked form from memory, from her face, to the wounds he inflicted in a bout of Moon Madness. A long moment of silence after the radio is clicked off, after she speaks, and the voice beside Faith's ear is close enough for the breath to fall away; for her to feel the strange tickle of whiskers. The danger of his flesh never being stable - the sudden feel of fur on her neck, where is hand is. The word comes, like a pet name: "Police Girl."
Another long silence, as the Simba reveals himself, standing right before her dressed as he is - and his form has not changed much, save perhaps the greying at the edges of his hair. The eyes cannot decide between dark brown or amber, bloodlust burning in his brain with duty, and the grip on her neck never loosens. Not for a moment. Chest-to-chest for a moment longer, the nose comes closer...and the whole of the physically impressive Lord is against her, pinning the officer to the wall, a killer's intent in the Simba's eyes...then he pulls away, and lets her go.
Turning his back on her, Ahnru is looking over the city rooftops, rubbing his hands as his flesh moves like melting wax. Unstable.
It's with every fiber of her will that her lips do not part in a scream. Her heart hammers in her chest as if it would break free from the cage of her own bones. The sound of her breathe is a wheeze. Something the human ear wouldn't detect. Just a hair's width of a tear still present in her left lung from the encounter. Police Girl. Cough. Right. Faith does her best to play it cool, she's bad at it. Using the brick to support herself she's standing up, tucking the pen into the clip board, trying to get her wits back about herself.
"To what do I owe the honor of this visit? I haven't seen you in.. a long time." Her voice has at least started to stabilize. Yeah, she might even be able to convince herself she's got this. Unless he looks at her again. Because god damn. Yeah.
The head turns to look at her over his shoulder, "I've been busy in Argentina." A pause, "And the Burning Season here - did you like the fires? They were a great success." He speaks of the West Coast burning down, and Colorado, and all the other states. When the fires would die down? This being before her, would help them start back up. He's listening to her, fully-focused on the woman behind him, though his gaze has returned to the cityscape. A long gaze upon the buildings and the distance lights, the ratta-tatta of rapid gunfire.
Slowly, August turns to look at her, to lock eyes with her, before letting those eyes fall down her body - so she can see the way he calculates her and compares, the way that his bloodlust is present. There is no hiding it, no way to not see his inhumanity: The King comes to the City for a Hunt.
A step forward is taken, eyes on her. Why was he here again? The thought goes to the back-burner, when confronted with the impossibility that is resisting the ease of killing the creature before him. That quirk to the corner of his mouth - the same he had when his claws perforated her lungs. The Moon's growth only fans his excitement.
She raises her hand to him palm out and fingers together in that thin black leather glove. "Stop." There it is, the fire that ignited his passions the first time. The girl who dares -command- the Lord of Sunlight. "I'm not available, I'm engaged." Faith's blue eyes meet his own and there's that cold flicker of steel - the one that he saw before she slit her own throat rather than being taken by what she thought was the enemy on a warm night in the desert.
She leaves her hand up with arm extended, knowing he could just pull it off at the shoulder should he choose. "Is there something else I can do for you, August? I wouldn't expect you to actually use the appropriate chain of command even if this about business. I don't think you actually have it in you to ask Dragomir for anything." A little smirk curls at the corners of her own mouth, a playful, genuinely friendly expression.
The hand touches his chest, and beneath the fingers she will feel the solar-scar on his sternum. The hammer-and-anvil heartbeat. The deep, calm breaths. August pushes against that hand, slow, and just as she saw that night - he would have what he wanted. Her. The fact she is engaged, dosn't make him flinch.
So he pushes against the hand while doing the most cat-like thing he could do, "Who is Dragomir?"
The hands finally reach out to push aside her arm, whilst the other grabs Faith by her throat to pin the woman to the wall, to close the distance in that instance and bite into her throat. Hard. As hard as the first time, when she discovered Cat Folk are not stagnant to form. That the teeth that have her feel like a man's only this moment; while in the next they could be a lion's jaws, releasing flesh from teeth to growl into her ear. "Soriba. Sabaro. These are names I want faces to. Backgrounds. Information." The growl is lethal. Violent.
She's fighting, the knee that drives into his groin about the time Sori breaks from his lips - when he teeth are no longer engaged with her jugular - is nothing more than a hopeful distraction. Balls-of-Steel wouldn't fold under that kind of a minor attack from a girl who can't even keep her feet under herself as she's lifted by the throat. It's the can of mace she's going for - if you can't overpower his body - go for those acute senses! The pepper and chemical spray is already being released as she's pulling it off her duty belt, her other hand, not bothering to struggle for control, is going for something in her pocket.
Faith's only noise is that deep wheeze as she tries to suck in some fresh air before the chemical attack hits her own nostrils, eyes closing tight against the impending gaseous cloud. The way the truth registers on her face as the names are spoken may serve as an even better distraction than the attempted knee-to-groin contact or probably-not-unexpected fight. She knows more than the sounds of those names too rare to be coincidentally spoken together.
It's true. The moment he has spoken the names, the full force of the killer's intent is revealed: Like someone has summoned the King out of the desert with the promise of a Hunt; and it's two women. His past with Faith should have taught her that gender isn't a barrier to August. It won't protect them. Whatever they have done, or were going to do - the thing they have, of which Ahnru wishes to possess? It has put the King of Killers behind them.
It's the knee to the groin that comes, and - does she hear his dark laugh? He's enjoying it. This is the smell of bread being baked.
The spray comes and instinctively he swipes outwards, and the fingers that could claw her stomach open without pause catch the uniform and -tear- at her so violently it is a question whether he was aiming for her shirt, or aiming to rip the Officer down to the ground as he backs away and lets out a scream, a very human sound of pain that melts into the fantastic and horrifying bellow of a beast. A monster. His flesh rippling, as Rage rises, eyes shut and head propped upwards.
And she's going over the wall backwards.. like a terrified rabbit. The flaps of her uniform rise and the light of the sun catches her pink flesh that bares just a kiss of razor thin marks of scars left behind on a night she was not more cautious. The can of partially discharged mace is dropped to free to clatter to the top of the roof as her other hand is fighting a cellphone from the pocket it had dodged into.
Time slows to a crawl at moments like this - when the mind processes faster than the human body can move. She knows there's a solid surface about six feet down. She's going to be knocked breathless if she lands flat. She risks breaking a bone if she lands on her feet with anything but perfect balance. The swipe has already put her off by precious degrees. The emergency button on the radio - not happening. He would kill any humans that could manage to show up - and there may still be some left in the building below them. The phone - her only option. She's dialing for the other kind of emergency backup - and he likely knows her intention before she does.
He's in pain, and his roar echoes through the alleyways below as it turns to a bellow. Time clicks into a cinematic existence as the chemical is dispelled from his flesh and, his face teary and red-stained, and August's eyes - amber as they are - glow like molten gold in the furnace.
She's hit, suddenly, by a full-body impact of the warrior-king leaping at the woman in full-speed, his growl is real, and his temper flares. It's a violence aimed not to throw her down the alley, or tear an arm out of the socket; one-part protection, one-part hunter's leap, Ahnru hits the officer with the tackle to send her across one roof - and to crash upon the other, casting the cellphone away and rolling sideways with such speed that he lands in the push-up position. There he lays, licking his teeth, before slowly pushing himself upwards, "Are you hiding them, Police Girl?" The look on his face twists into a feral enjoyment of the situation, watching Faith, not moving anymore. Because he can taste it - his own bloodlust for the two names on August's very own, brand spanky new, List.
The phone smashes against the alley wall and lands in pieces three floor below in the dingy shadows as the kinswoman rolls across the uneven rooftop, landing sprawled and winded in an undignified lump and tangle of limbs. The girl's ice-blue gaze is clear and sharp, her lip stained red with a taste of her own blood.
A miscalculation. They are rare on the part of the Simba no doubt - and he likely learns lessons from them that are almost as hard as those taught to his prey. In his pause, she moves with the swiftness born of the same sort of do or die mind set he had seen that first night. Faith is hitting the panic button on the side of her radio even as she meets his rage-filled gaze.
The wave of Ego that vibrates off of August fizzles. Which is a shame because, when August cannot man-handle his way through social sharpness - he relies on other tools. Sharper tools. Tools that leave cops slung up on phone poles like this is the 80's.
There's a flash of annoyance that bursts into Rage, and the words that leave his lips are tainted with the promised violence of the thing, "I will have my Prey." The Fight. The Chase. He'll find them, and probably, kill them.
But then from his pushed position, August is moving on all fours, bent like a Beast and charging across the rooftop as that flesh begins to bubble and burn daring to lose shape and gain another - but he remains a man. Leaping at the downed officer like Sabertooth, arms outspread. Excited.
[Law] Badge 3460 Sergeant Donahue says, “IC Beacon Announcement from PPD Emergency Internal System: Badge #3460 Officer Down Alert Deployed Location <Random building located in mixed commercial district bordering metro area and docks.>”
The beacon has been let out.. the alert is loose and sliding along the weavers webs as fast as a shifter can move in rage. Faith's slammed into the hard roof by the full weight of the man, without any recourse but to submit. "Want Address.." she growls lowly. "Get. Off. Me." There's nothing sexual about the way she's looking at the cat with those seething eyes.. this is no longer a game to the girl. Even the smallest sliver of empathy will register her furious, cold, rage. She's stab him in the fucking eye with his own dick if she could move right now.
When he's on her, his hand is around her throat in such a way - the only way - that it could fit. There's a unique sameness between kink and killing, and the thumb presses upwards against her chin as the Lord of Sunlight stares down at her. Wide-eyed, and smiling. But, August is excited.
Not for the possibility of fucking her into a new personality complex, but these are all the signs - signs she'd have to learn through experience - of a Simba hunting. Excited. Unsubtle. He isn't going to play politics, and he isn't going to socialize; the bloodlust is heavy and as August leans over her his smile grows a little more. The hand loosens, but it doesn’t come off, "Give it to me."
Now imagine how August found her own address, and the violence beset on the person who knew it.
She draws a subtle breath.. just enough to be able to speak. By the time she's finished whispering it, he can already hear the sirens starting to loop in this direction.
The eyes look down at her, and they are amber and calculating. The fingertips touch her lips, and then her chin, and jugular. There are no words to say, no thank yous, or apologies. He stands like a machine and turns towards the direction that address is in, a pause to breathe in air and then - off. Cats don't fear heights, and moreover, this one now has a direction.
Once the cat is gone, Donahue's in a hell of a pickle. Mace on roof #1. She's broken on roof #2. The gun hasn't even been pulled from her holster, there's been an officer down deployment, the roar of some kind of beast. God only knows if there are witnesses. Her ballistics vest and badge are shredded. There's no time to figure it out, she can already hear the sirens herself. Picking a brick off the rooftop, she slides it under the back of her head, and with a small prayer and iron will, she snaps her head back against it.. blacking out.
As the police begin arriving in the area..
The street below isn't a mess yet, just an empty storefront like so many others - in fact the front of the building demaracted by the GPS 114 is intact with a closed and safety-shuttered window and doorway. It's the building next door, 116, that had been taped shut earlier as a crime scene - a tactical team assault on some reported low-level gang activity. Sgt. Donahue was the lead SWAT officer on that and stayed behind to finish paperwork the last time she had been heard from - only about 35 minutes before the emergency beacon was set off. There appears to be no unusual activity in either building, and a narrow alley stretches between them with dim lighting.
Merek was in the area, and moved into his police car while he holsters his handgun and takes a shotgun from the trunk to shift upon his shoulder. He has on his vest he put on, as well as the uniform and a cap. He moves from the vehicle when he arrives, while he looks around for any sign of where he should go.
Other officers have likely arrived by now as well, and one of then shines a flashlight on something in the alley. The Rookie yells back to Merek "Hey! Hey I think this is her phone, there's some blood on it!" Another officer is getting out a crowbar top open the steel shutters over the door of the sealed building where the signal reports to be emanating from. The crime scene tape over the building next door flutters in the mild sea breeze - and curious neighbors and onlookers have started to gather. Donahue hasn't responded to her radio since the emergency signal went out.
Sander pulls up his take-home car behind the marked cars on scene, leaving the blues on. He hurries to throw on a vest from the trunk and grabs a flashlight, quickly surveying the scene. "I'm going in!" he shouts in the general direction of the cops still working the exterior. Without waiting for a reply, he lets himself past the crime scene tape into number 114.
Merek looks around a bit and notes that Sander has arrived and moved into the building. He follows with him, shifting his handgun from the holster as he follows.
Xenovia arrives into the area and pulls up a little ways back from the police force gathering. A BMW parks and the lights turn off as she turns to look at Lleu in the car with her. Anyone who notices will see he caught a ride in with her.
The streets are a mess. Pedestrians, cop cars, ambulance, rookie cops finding bloody cellphones in the alley and trying to fucking touch it before putting on gloves. The front of the building demarcated by the GPS 114 has had it's safety-shuttered window and doorway recently pried open with crowbars. It's the building next door, 116, that had been taped shut earlier as a crime scene - a tactical team assault on some reported low-level gang activity. Sgt. Donahue was the lead SWAT officer on that and stayed behind to finish paperwork the last time she had been heard from - only about 35 minutes before the emergency beacon was set off. There appears to be no unusual activity in either building, and a narrow alley stretches between them with dim lighting.
As Sander and Merek enter 114 they'll find gang tags, drug paraphernalia, evidence has been marked, bagged .. there are flood lights set up in preparation for the crime scene photographer on each of the floors. Body outlines aren't located until the third floor and the bullet holes through the windows tell a tale of marksmanship from a third building roughly a block and a half away. There is a fire exit standing open with stairs leading to the roof. Some PPD evidence paperwork blows across the floor.
Lleutrim did indeed catch a ride and as soon as Xen pulls up, Donnachaidh opens the car door and is out of it like a shot even before Xen's parked. He runs up the sidewalk to where there are police gathered and someone moves to stop him. "Hey! I'm Lleu Donnachaidh, former Prospect Police Department! My fiance is Sergeant Faith Donahue! I was told she sent an Officer Down alert at this location?" He wallet he pulls out to show his ID with his Fraternal Order of Police membership. "Anyone find her yet?" His breath is up from his short run, wearing a USMC T-shirt and blue jeans. Lleu doesn't try to push through the officers.
Merek allows Sander to do what he does, as he keeps a watch for the man, shifting his weapon to check with the halls as he does.
Cops are everywhere, doing their thing. Someone's bagged the cell phone they found and as word spreads of Lleu's arrived, a duty Sergeant says, "Bring him up. I want to see if he can confirm if this is Donahue's phone or not." Anyone near to the buildings is behind cover mostly, in the event shots start to ring out. Further back, police have set up a perimeter.
Xenovia gets out of the car a whole lot slower than Lleutrim did. She is well aware of the high traffic of police officers and emergency vehicles out here, and the flashing lights seem somewhat blinding. Her car door closes to the BMW and she approaches behind Lleu as she attempts to catch up with him. If someone looks at her to check things out, she adds in "I'm her cousin." She suddenly glances upward at the building in question and tilts her head as if trying to see more in the dark as she shields her eyes from the flashing lights around them.
Sander heads quickly up the building, looking around the lower floors only long enough to determine that there's no officer down here. He halts, taking in the outlines, the signs of gunfire, and most of all, the open fire escape. Looking at Merek with a finger first to his lips, then to the open door, he looks outside cautiously. If the coast looks clear, he takes the fire escape to the roof to get a better view of the area.
Jael's in jeans, boots but her jacket that ID's her as one of the force. Her badge worn around her neck as she's walking carefully around and helping the other CSI team members with their bagging. Her camera is working overtime today though! Because it's taking picture after picture as she walks through the crime scene.
The halls in the building that Jael was called to photograph have been swept, marked, and appear to be empty. The photographer was supposed to get some paperwork from a Sgt. Donahue, so she's pretty much fucked unless she can get someone else to stop looking for the missing Sgt. long enough to sign for her. Because you know - shit still needs to get done! And Jael will know by reputation that if that crotchty IA bitch IS dead? She'll rise from her grave to chew ass over missing signatures.
While Merek keeps the halls safe from harm and other officers start to sweep the lower floor of the shorter building in slow teams, Sanders charges right out on the higher of the two roof tops like a spectacular target. Looking about h- he is particularly perceptive. There's her can of mace.. the spray arc from where she was setting it off on someone much bigger than her.. the boot scuffs on the wall.. blood spatters, pieces of shredded uniform shirt and bullet proof vest.. like razor-sharply sliced.. and everything points toward the alley where they found the bloodied phone but across the alley - the location of the actual GPS signal, there's the fucking radio on the roof of the 2nd building, and someone in a PPD Black Tactical uniform laying unconscious.
LLeutrim is brought through the lines with Xen in tow, if only because they know he's family. It's messy - lines get blurred.
The phone, sealed in it's bag, is shown to Lleu when he is brought up with Xen. Donnachaidh nods, "It looks like her phone. Let me check." He doesn't touch it. He pulls out his own phone and calls Faith's phone to see if he can ping it. Lleu frowns when nothing happens, "If it is her phone, I think it's busted. It's going to her voice mail." The phone they found does show every sign of being dead. Anxiously he looks up at the buildings, "Any news? Shots fired?" You can tell he's itching to go in and up there, but no way they are letting him.
Xenovia nods in agreement, also recognizing the phone from when she last borrowed it. "That's hers. I recognize the scratch on the back." She looks from the officer up at Lleu, wondering what they should do next. There is deep concern written on her face with concern for her cousin missing. Lleu asks rapid questions and she's looking around to make sense of what the officers are doing.
After a short moment on the roof, Sander shouts down to the officers in the alley, pointing to the other side, "Roof of that building! Breach it and get EMS up there now!" He watches long enough to make sure he's been heard, understood, and obeyed, then turns back to the (for the moment) private scene on 'his' rooftop.
Slow, painfully slow progress is being made in front of the windows in the lower building. From the street, there's a sudden rush of attention. The officers that had been clearing the rooms in the shorter building are pounding the stairs and the dull THUD* THUD* THUD* THUWAK* can be heard as they use the heavy metal log-shaped apparatus to bust the fire door that's been illegally chained shut, open onto the roof of the second building.
EMS is being rushed through past Xen and LLeu into the building by uniformed officers.. and slowly word starts to circulate back that there's a body on the roof.
Jael's still going through and taking pictures. And there's a look up when the chatter starts. The brown haired woman frowns a bit and looks over to Lleu and the others. It was never a good thing to hear.
Lleutrim sends a text to somebody while he's got his phone out. He looks up when he hears shouting but he's still not up close to the buildings they are searching. He and Xenovia have been kept back. Donnachaidh is anxious but he stands quietly on the fringe and makes no move to get in close. He says real low to Xenovia, "If ... they bring her out and she's not walking on her own two feet, you have to drive me to the hospital, all right?" Yeah, his heart rate's picked up, "Maybe I should go wait in the car. Nobody needs me .. you know, loose my shit." He puts a hand on her shoulder and with reluctance, he starts to fall back to head back to the car to wait. It's not going to be easy waiting.
Xenovia listens to Lleutrim and gently touches his arm as if attempting to calm and provide reassurance. "Go wait in the car." Her gaze lifts to his. "I got this and I'll make sure you get to where you need to be." She tosses him the keys so he can get in. "Breathe." She's all serious now and moves a bit closer to where she would be held back as a family member. She mutters to herself beneath her breath. A bit twitchy from where she is standing, she is trying to watch for more movement of the personnel hurrying on in.
Lleutrim keeps texting, then looks at Xenovia. He nods, "Yeah." Probably he can't be going to the hospital either. Some people will be upset he came at all. A careful deep breath, then Donnachaidh goes back and gets into the car to wait. He'll be busy on his phone.
As Sander continues to explore the roof of the second building, the response team is spilling onto the second roof, boots everywhere. Evidence collection's worst fucking nightmare! There are lights and shouts, the next round of words start circulating back - stretcher - get the stretcher up here. She's breathing.
The officer down alert is quickly canceled. Apparently they have indeed identified the individual on the rooftop as Sgt. Donahue. Jael's going to have a very, long, night. Merek is likely helping to get the rest of the teams organized as both buildings become official crime scenes.
Merek moves with the Sander, seeming to be keeping to him self as he looks for things. It looks like Faith got trapped on the rooftop, and emptied a can of mace in an upward arc from being held against a wall. There are signs of a brief struggle, and there are shreds of uniform shirt and ballistics vest laying on the rooftop, very thin slices of them, almost as if surgically incised horizontally from across the chest area of a tactical uniform. There are some scuff marks at the wall against the side of the building next to the alley - the trajectory of which would carry the eye across to where they are now laying out markers for roughly where Faith was found. He then nods to him with relief, "Call it in," he holsters up his handgun.
The dozens of police cars that had been veritably blockading the streets are now shifting around to make room for the ambulance that is currently backed up to a two story building, next door to a three story building. The three story building had been taped up earlier in the day as a crime scene, and still has officers coming and going from it.
The two story building looks to be the hive of activity where EMS crews are being escorted out with a familiar Sgt on a stretcher. She appears to be bruised from what can be glimpsed of her face - the rest of her covered with bright yellow plastic coated blankets and strapped onto a stretcher. The woman does not appear to be conscious. She's got an IV drip in, a standard oxygen mask over her mouth has some blood on it. There's nothing to indicate an excessive amounts of carnage otherwise. Just a lot of chaos and yelling for people to move as they work to get the stretcher out of the building and to the back of the waiting ambulance.
Lleutrim sits anxiously in Xenovia's car well back from what's happening inside of the Police perimeter. Donnachaidh has his phone in hand, waiting for news, but not close enough to see them bringing Faith out on the stretcher. From his position in the car he can see the ambulence backing up and people clearing the way for it. Lleu closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing for a long moment while he waits for some news.
Xenovia attempts to force her way through once the body is seen coming out on a stretcher. She has her cell phone in hand and quickly shoots off a speed text. "Which hospital are you taking her to? I'm family, and I'll meet her there!" She's hoping someone will answer in the rush as she makes note of the condition Faith is in as she is whizzed by for the paramedics. "Keep breathing, Faith! Lleu is here." Unsure if the officer down can hear her or not.
Dragomir got word and the location and took to the Penumbra immediately, the great Falcon wings unfolding behind him and he burst into flight instantly and soared in the direction of the call - flying remarkably at great/near-instant speed in that direction. Fortunately being in the penumbra, he does not risk the Veil and is able to land on one of the roof-tops and scan the area. He starts by peeking through the gauntlet, trying to get a better idea of the scene from his higher vantage point now.
Jael gives a look to things as she stands over to the side, her night was going to be LONG. But that was her job. And her husband was dead so not like she had anyone to go home to these days. The woman continues on with taking her photos. Making sure to catch everything on film as she goes. She'd make it up to the roof eventually.
"Prospect Memorial," the EMT closing the back doors of the ambulance tells Xen, "She'll get the best care ma'am." He jogs around to the front of the ambulance to clamber in the passenger seat.
By now the police officers still standing around are trying to simply contain what they can of the evidence - as one of the detectives has started screaming at the dozen or so officers still walking around on the second story rooftop.
Sander finishes his rooftop inspection. "Well... that's a hell of a throw, or whatever happened here. I'm wondering what the Sarge will have to tell us when she wakes up." He nods to Merek, then heads unhurriedly for the fire escape down, closing the exterior door on his way by. Don't need the wind making more of a mess of the scene inside.
Xenovia nods to the EMT to give the affirmative. She starts pulling away from the scene and pushes her way back through the people and jogs around the vehicles. She texts as she makes a quick dash through the tape, and manages to move down the sidewalk to get to her parked car. "We better hurry if we're going to catch up behind that ambulance. Hold on, Lleu. NOW, you get to see some fancy NEW YORK driving." She flashes him a grin. "Hold on tight!"
Dragomir stands there, crossing his thick arms over his chest and frowns as he scans the roof top and starts to pick up some the faint details and evidence of the scene. The Falcon wings fold in behind him slowly - invisible to the mundane eye for now. He takes in a deep breath, Calling the Wyld - drawing all the spirits in the area to him from this area now. In Spirit Speech he says, ~My kinfolk has been wounded here.. show me what has happened. Show me who has done this, so I may have my vengeance.~ he growls lowly.
Merek writs up some notes about the situation while he nods then to Sander.
Jael heads for the rooftop! Since that's where the recent action has been. She's not sure what to expect when she gets there though. The woman gives a bit of a murmured prayer of whatever is going on doesn't give her anymore nightmares. Or send anymore demons after her.
Lleutrim is sitting in the car texting Xenovia back even as she shows up. He looks to her as she gets in, "Maybe you better go drop me off on the southside so I can head home. I better not go the hospital. Will you go? Please."
On the rooftop Jael will find scuff marks, an emptied mace canister, some bagged uniform material, and bagged tactical vest material... of all the scenes she's photographed, this one is fairly simple. Looks like a scuffle that went from one rooftop to the other?
When Xenovia is ready she can back the car out and get Lleu the fuck out of there. He's upset, but real quiet, trying to stay as calm as he can. He sends and receives more texts and is pretty quiet for the ride back.
Sander heads to his car, seemingly lost in thought as he leaves the building. He sits in the driver's seat for a while, and eventually pulls out to head in the direction of the hospital.
