27.04.2019: Uninvited Guests Pt. 1

Uninvited Guests Pt. 1
A quiet evening is rudely interrupted by a young woman and her pursuers.
Players	Evaline Saskia Teagan
Location	Canyon Park, Prospect CA
Spheres	Mage

The apartment, while small, has all the necessities of a home. There's a single bedroom, a living room, a bathroom and a kitchen.

The living room consists of a huge and fluffy gray carpet, on top of which some variant of a black IKEA sofa sits. Opposite of the sofa a large flat screen TV stands on top of a simple stand, which is littered with various video game consoles. An oval coffee table stands in front of the sofa. The wallpaper is a muted black and looks to be peeling off a little in the corners. A large cat tower stands in the corner of the room. The room is largely illuminated by a large floor lamp, with LED candles serving as backup.

A little cramped, the kitchen features a fridge-freezer combo along with a basic stove, a sink and a microwave. There's a small wooden countertop which is just large enough for a cutting board to fit on. Above the sink hangs a group of cupboards, presumably full of kitchen stuff. A table with a white tablecloth sits in the corner, which looks like it could just barely fit four people. The room is lit by more LED candles, along with a few actual ones standing atop the table. The space is kept very clean, with hardly a spot of dust to be found anywhere.

The bedroom is a cozy space, lit by fairy lights which have been mounted to the top of the walls, looping around the entire room. There's a full-size bed, with patterned black bed sheets featuring stars and constellations. Next to it sits a smaller circular bed, intended for cats. Tucked up next to the window is a small desk with a laptop sitting on top of it. In addition, a single bookshelf stands next to the door, mostly full of academic texts.

While the bathroom isn't the most elegant, it's obvious some effort has been taken to make it a little more hospitable. The walls are made up of alternating black and white tiles, some cracked or uneven: The bathtub is kept clean with its corners almost entirely taken up by a wide array of hair and skin products. On the sink there's some fragrance sticks which emanate a pleasant lavender aroma.

There's someone in the bathroom it sounds like, the door is slightly ajar. The sounds of running water and scrubbing comes from within, along with a series of annoyed German sounding words. Saskia is inside hunched over the sink, a line of suture pinched between her teeth, the needle working in her arm to bind up a rather nasty looking gash - the sink runs red with blood, "Gottverdammt..." She calls out in frustration as she likely botches it, along with a shocked gasp as she takes the Lords name in vain. She's a good girl.

Teagan is sitting cross-legged on the couch, holding a video game controller. She's intently focusing on something on the screen, and occasionally leans to the side, subconsciously hoping it'll help her efforts. There's a loud whistling sound, and Teagan gives the kitchen a desperate look. Flicking her attention back to the screen, she reluctantly pauses and gets up, moving towards the kitchen to get the kettle off the stove. She prepares two cups of loose leaf tea, with plenty of milk and carries them back to the living room. Placing the two cups on the coffee table, she brings out her phone and starts to scroll through various social media feeds.

All seems quiet within the halls of Canyon Park, a swirling mess of various levels of crime and violence. In Teagan's particular abode, all seems relatively well, until there's the thudding of booted feet coming down the hall, then the crashing of broken glass. There's grunts and yells, until one is cut off suddenly with a pained gargling, and a slumped thud of something large and human-shaped hitting the carpetted floor. There's a moment of horrible silence, then a slow stumbling of those same booted feet, half dragging across the stained carpet, and then a hurried, desperate hammering on Teagan's thin front door. A pained voice, familiar yet different, comes from the other side. "Let me in! Hurry!" it yells out, filled with anger, pain and panic. A slowly growing puddle of dark red blood begins to seep out from under the door.

Another series of unintelligible German words call out from the bathroom, as presumably Saskia finishes to little success. Something thumbs against the wall, along with the tearing sound of a roll of bandages which she wraps tightly about her arm wound. She's good at this at least, this is easy. The tap hisses again, and she splashes water over her face and washes away the dried blood splattered about her arm. She makes an attempt to clean the bathroom up a little, but it'll probably take a while, it looks more like a triage than a porcelain palace. The light clicks off, and she pushes the door open, just in time to hear the furtive yelling from outside.

She leans out, eyes sweeping across the room, noticing Teagan there. She's only wearing a torn tank top and jeans. "Verdammt, zhey' might have followed me." She groans out, "I was sure I covered my tracks..." She breathes out a hard huff, "Stay behind me." She orders, and swoops towards the door, snatches up her coat and the lengthy sword scabbard attached on the back. Fingers wrap around the long hilt, and she pulls it free with a 'zip' of steel on leather, it's about 48 inches in length with a deep fuller down the middle. A line of intricate runes and glyphs are etched along the middle which end in the phrase, 'Pflicht, Gott, Glaube'.

She throws the door open, and rushes into the threshold with her sword held in a high guard, her face set of a violent grimace. "BEGONE!" She calls out, ready to strike - oh, but it's Evaline.

Letting out a yelp, Teagan almost drops her phone as the assault on her door starts. Dressed in PJs adorned by cute little teddy bears, she darts upright at Saskia's reaction. "Who's they?" she says with a quiet whisper, approaching the door a safe distance behind Saskia. Struggling to keep her voice down, she calls out: "Holy shit, is that blood? What. The Fuck." Deciding it'd probably be safer to be further away ,Teagan runs back to the living room, with her head just peeking out from around the corner.

There's the telltale click of a hammer being cocked as the door is thrown open. Then, for a moment, Saskia finds herself staring down the barrel of a 1911 in her combat ready stance. Who would've killed who first in such a situation? No one knows, because as fast as it happens, the gun is put back in its holster at her thigh. Before Saskia stands a familiar woman, but dressed in all black leathers. Segmented plates of body armour, just under the surface of the material of her outfit adheres to her contours, giving her mobility and flexibility without sacrificing protection, and, most importantly, style. On her head is the half-cowl that has perhaps become a famous and rare sight around the delapidated streets that host Canyon Park, with those glowing lenses for eyes, and the forever angry expression that it gives its wearer. Right now though she is in tatters: one lens is shattered, dimly flickering on and off, while there are deep scratches, sword marks and absorbed bullet holes denting her chest. There's also the handle of a serrated combat knife, pulled from the boot of some desperate foe, sticking out from her ribs.

She's panting heavily, using a segmented, confusing looking sword as a walking stick, blade stuck neatly into the carpet. It seems to be covered in all manner of curious devices, wired haphazardly about the thing, connecting every which way for some unknown purpose. It vibrates with energy, and is stained with fresh blood. "Thank you," she says hoarsely, stumbling inside, then passing out almost instantly on the floor, hacking up blood onto the clean carpet.

A few feet behind her, still in the hall, the body of a man in his mid-40s lays face down, blood leaking from a sword perforation straight through his chest. He isn't moving.

Saskia looked about ready to cut Evaline into bite sized pieces, her sword twisted down at an angle. They likely would've taken each-other out should they come to blows, alas. Azure eyes flash down the corridor, and she quickly steps aside to let Evaline stumble through and twatting herself on the floor. Her sword lowers to a mid-stance, and eyes the skewered man expired in the hall. "Gott in himmel," She gasps out, "Not one of mine, then." Oddly enough she seems to breathe out a breath of relief, even though Evaline has been shanked in the blood bag and a murder victim lies in the hallway. "Teagan!" She calls out, "Grab that silly woman and get her into the living room." As she slaps her bastard sword back into the sheath, and lays it up beside the door on the inside.

She darts outside, another quick look back and forth, thankfully no nosy neighbors are peeking out. They're probably used to this, just another whatever day it is. She clasps her hands around the wrists of the dead man, pulling him inside and into the foyer.

What an absolute mess, but Saskia is in full battle mode. She swings the door closed with a click, sucks in a breath and holds the hilt of her sword, her fingers tracing runes on the pommel. Her other hand flicks up, as she draws a pair of glowing sigils on the wood - sealing the door in place with some sort of spell. The air feels heavier around it.

A mixture of confusion and dread falls upon Teagan as she sees Evaline stumble through door all bloody and beaten. She shields her mouth with her hand, and is entirely frozen in place until Saskia calls her name. Snapping out of it, she manages to stumble over to Evaline before running a hand through her hair. "Jesus, dude." Clearly in disbelief, she collects herself enough to grab a handful of towels from the bathroom, laying them out over the couch in the living room.

Coming back to Evaline, she looks at her for a few seconds, then to Saskia and then back to Evaline again. "Uh..." She struggles to form any kind of coherent sentence, eyes wide in disbelief. "I'm gonna..." Trailing off, she tries her best to lead Evaline into the living room, setting her down on the sofa, managing to spill some of the tea sitting on the coffee table in the process. She doesn't seem to care about this as she starts pacing back and forth, with the video game's pause track playing in the background.

In the midst of all this, a deep voice echoes in the back of the girls' minds. "Teagan, what did I tell you about letting strange women into our home?" It speaks, reeking with an aura of distaste. "Not now Sam!" Teagan calls out. Her voice is shrill and barely holds. Taking her glasses off, Teagan exhales deeply before sitting down on the table in front of the couch. She takes Evaline's mask off being careful not to damage anything. Her eyes shift from one color to the next as she makes eye contact with the woman. "What happened?"

Her hair is plastered to her face with sweat. The eye behind the damaged lens is blackened and swollen. A rivulet of blood leaves her nose and runs down her cheek, dropping onto the fabric of the sofa. A hand covered in an elbow-length leather glove rises to grip the handle of the knife in her abdomen, and she winces in pain. It's deep. She struggles to reposition herself, then to rise to a stand, but her knees buckle under her easily and she stumbles forward, almost into Teagan, then backwards onto the sofa once more, where she remains. "They can..." she says, her coarse voice nothing more than a ragged whisper, "They can smell the blood..."

She leans forward with great effort, and pulls the loaded handgun from her thigh holster. Then she grips it by the barrel and shoves the handle toward Teagan. "Take it... block the door... bar the windows... they're coming..." she whispers, every word a great effort. She reaches to a pouch on her chest, and removes a curious device: a black metal canister, with a red flashing LED. "I can't heal without my tools... it will take time for them to get here..." she says, weakly gesturing to the device she's holding. "Tell Saskia... hold them off until then... the head... or the heart..." then her eyes close, and she slumps down into the sofa, unconscious.

By the ever hateful hand of fate, Teagan has no time to panic, because there's a scratching at the walls, and the thudding of feet outside. Hands beat and scratch at the door, as outside in the young night, shadowy figures climb the fire escape. They hiss and clamber with animalistic intent, teeth bared, fingers twisted and curled into sharp, elongated claws by some unnatural, perhaps magical means.

Far away, past the ghettos of Prospect, past the ever-stretching land of middle class suburbia, deep in the forests of her hideaway, an engine roars to life, and sends a sleek, polished steed of obsidian screaming onto the streets. It's far away, but it can cover ground faster than any car in the city. The countdown has begun.

"Zhen' why did you leave a trail of blood right to Teagan's apartment, Gott dammit!" Saskia calls out over her shoulder, exacerbated. "Escape and evasion! Don't zhey' teach you anything?" Clearly, she's pissed. Her face is locked into a serious grimace like someones just told her a bad joke. She finishes warding the door and double checks the sigil, it's a simple looking thing with a large circle with two looping geometic symbols attached to the edges. It glows softly in a certain light. That means it's working. She darts back into the main room, eyes sweeping from Teagan to Evaline. "Teagan, I am sorry- So sorry, your apartment is going to be -ruined-." She apologises, and bows her head a little bit. Though, she squints a little bit at Evaline as the woman is bleeding out on the sofa. Her eye twitches, "Another one, is this hole dammed city Awakened?" She calls out, and slaps a hand against her forehead.

And then, the scratches, the pounding. "Scheisse!" She calls out, and clamps that hand to her mouth. No swearing. "Plan, plan... defend, consolidate, counter." She mutters as a mantra, and grits her teeth. "Not enough time to ward to windows-" She states, and raises her sword in a high-guard, the crossguard about level with her forehead as she moves into the main room - facing the windows. "The door will hold for some time, unless they employ explosives. "Can you use that gun, Teagan? Try not to clip me," She calls, lowers her sword for a moment, and slides her hand along the edge. It draws blood and coats the blade in a thin sheen of crimson. She mutters a quiet incantation in Enochian, and throws her hand away.

The blade ignites, licking flame thrashing about the length of enchanted steel like an avenging angel. "Stay behind me!" She yells, "See if you can keep Evaline alive!" She's ready to rumble.

Teagan struggles to say anything as her eyes dart all over the apartment. Looking down at the gun in her hand, she briefly considers Saskia's question. Her mouth opens and she waits a few seconds before speaking. "Uh... Yeah..." is all she manages. Still sitting on the coffee table facing Evaline, she attempts to assess her injuries but can only manage looking at the bloody mess for a few seconds before turning her gaze back towards the floor. She slumps down from the table, leaning her back towards the side of the couch and starts quietly sobbing.

A slender black cat quietly emerges from the bedroom, calmly glancing across the room. "Oh dear." a voice echoes in Saskia's and Evaline's minds. "You've made quite the mess." there's a pause before the voice can be heard again, this time in an assertive hiss. "If either of you let any harm come to this girl, I will tear all your tiny little limbs from your puny human bodies, and I will laugh as your tendons snap. Do you understand?" The cat trills and jumps atop the small tower in the corner of the living room, its yellow eyes carefully watching the situation.

Detrevni smirks at the cat. The voice that rings out inside her mind has seemingly broken out of her pain induced coma, and her icy green eyes slowly move from the soft features of the magical cat to Teagan as she sobs. A gloved hand gently moves to grip Teagan on the shoulder as best she can without moving too much. "It's okay to be frightened. Ours is a scary world," she coughs, "but you have a great power inside of you, awakened and ready to burst out. These vermin are nothing before you. They are vile, murderous monsters that need to be destroyed. So that mundanes not as powerful as us may enjoy the peace of sleep." Her grip tightens on Teagans shoulder, perhaps out of pain, perhaps as a means of comfort, but she reaches out her other hand, this one bloodied from battle. A faint glow of energy rests in her palm. Electrical energy from everything in the room: the lights, the TV, the games console, it all rises in foggy tendrils towards her hand, "Show these monsters why you're powerful, Teagan," and she flashes a hand out toward the window: an arc of electricity darts out, through the glass without marking it, and lands square on the face of someone who has just appeared on the other side. They scream in pain, their flesh searing away, fangs bared, and they tumble backwards over the railing and fall for many storeys, smashing onto the edge of a dumpster in the alley below, their spine snapped like a twig, lifeless.

"Ziss' is not a dammed poetry session, you silly woman!" Saskia calls out over her shoulder, "Monologue later!" She adds, "Fight now." Her teeth are set into a grimace, her flaming sword licking and biting at the air as she bears it dangerously before her. It casts odd shadows all over the place, engulfing them all in orange light. At the door, the limbs continue to smack against it with a steady 'Thud, thud, thud'. The sigil enchanted on the door flares with soft light at every impact, it seems to be holding for now - but the other layers are chipping and pealing off like paint with every activation. Her eyes flick towards the Familiar as the spirit speaks in their minds, and she bears her teeth to it. "Kitty has claws!" She calls in admonishment, and sets her focus back to the task at hand. To rip and tear.

SMASH! One of the windows cracks inwards, as a gangly figure launches himself into the living room with an unnatural speed and dexterity. She meets it head on, her flaming blade arcing through the air to connect straight across its neck. A flash of flame and crimson licks the air in a beautiful painting, the creature decapitated and flaming, the head rolls towards one side of the room - the unlifeless corpse smacks against the ground like a wet sack, singed around the edges.

Another one throws themselves towards the smashed window, fags beared with a frenzied expression. She flicks up her fingers and traces a rapid gesture in the air, her fingers twisting together to draw a glowing glyph. "QUASABA!" She calls out in Enochian, and causes the shards of glass littered about the living room to fly upwards and arc through the air to spear themselves through the face of the next attacker - punting them backwards and off the fire escape to join the other one below.

As Evaline speaks, Teagan collects herself with a series of deep breaths. Standing up, she takes a few shaky steps towards the table and uses the arm of her shirt to wipe tears from her face. Putting her glasses back on she closes her eyes and inhales deeply. Before letting her breath escape, she bites into her thumb hard enough to pierce her skin. Stance now firm, she walks over to one of the windows and puts her thumb on the frame. It moves methodically, drawing an intricate sigil of blood on the lower part of the frame. With a light push the window swings open and the harsh wind from outside catches Teagan's hair. With eyes bright as candles, she watches one of the creatures outside, and it doesn't take long for her to attract its attention. As it pushes its arms through the window, they vanish, shortly followed by its body and legs. As the creatures continue leaping at her, she happily remains still behind the window with a slight grin forming on her face.