Aaron nodded and stood.

"I'm ready whenever you need me." He stood, and stretched.

"Is this the kinda place I can go 'dressed-to-kill' or should I leave all the toys in the car? To be honest, as long as the range is ten meters or less guns aren't necessary for me."

"Bring along whatever you feel you need to in order to be effective. We're heading out to the Barrens, where overly curious people end up in a body bag."

He nods to Moira as well. "Excellent. While you're getting the spell formula, I'll see about doing what I can to summon an elemental whose energies are based in manipulation as well. It will be helpful at the club, and should be able to assist you in mastering the subtleties of the spell that much faster. I'll be free in about 6 hours. Please do not disturb me."

Details handled, he headed out to the balcony and the metre tall pot of earth that stood near the railing, as if waiting a plant. Man-handling the pot into the bedroom, he spread the soil out on a layer of plastic on the floor, clicking on the holographic projectors that created the luminescent, 3-dimensional geometric figures he used for his summoning. Settling down inside the circle, he sealed it with the slightest touch of mana, watching in the astral as the crackling energy of the newly formed ward raced along the lines of light criss crossing the room. With the staff across his knees and Sifrexehethenes wrapped in a circle head to toe on the floor around him, he began the 6 hour long process of drawing the energy of the metaplanes out and into the soil at his feet.

:: As Bakatare heads off to begin the arduous task of summoning, Moira pulls out her phone and dials Jesse. Hearing his voice, she smiles softly though she is not broadcasting video. ::

"Hey Jess...I need a favor. Need to get my hands on a pretty big spell formula, something that will help me to control a mob of people, definately a manipulation style deal. Definately high end force, as high as you think I can manage really. I also need it as soon as humanly possible. Will need to have it learned in two days."

...

Moira

"Well no small orders from you then I guess." His dry chuckle carries through the phone line. "I, myself don't have something like that lying around but I know where you can get your hands on a formula though. There's a shadow talismonger I know of named Miss Bitsy and that sounds right up her alley. She deals in those type of magics pretty regularly." You hear him move through the house, opening and closing doors as he arrives at another room. The sound of book or ledger being opened is in the background as he speaks. "Still got her number, give me about 10 to 12 hours to arrange it and you should be able to swing by pick up the formula. I'll send you the address with a time once I have all the details ironed out." There's a small pause as he seems to weigh his next statement. "Everything ok at your end?"

"Yeah, well no."

:: Moira pauses a moment to actually ask herself that same question. ::

"No, I am ok, at least Im getting there. Hopefully this job will wrap up in the next couple of days, then I'll have some time to figure all that out."

:: It dawns on her that Jess actually has no clue what they've gone through, how much has changed. She would have to have a long talk with him once everything had finished. ::

"I'll be waiting, let me know as soon as everything is set up."

Moira

"Ok, take care and call if you need anything else." The line goes silent with a sigh and then a tone.

:: Once the phone has disconnected, she sat there an stared at the blank trid unit, not thinking of anything at all. As someone shifted in their seat, it snapped her out of her reverie and she turns the trid on to the 24 hour news station to help her pass the time until Jesse called her back with more information. ::

After leaving Shiver, Angelina attempted to find solace in prayer in the little shrine set up in her room. But peace was hard to find when you share a body with a demon. Blocking out Desdemona's barbs, she did the best she could to tell her trials and tribulations to her patron saint. Feeling somewhat cleansed, she finally drifted off to sleep.

*****

Morning once more came with the smells of cooking. Today she was going a bit simpler, with muffins. But muffins and coffee go a long ways for starting the morning. "So looks like the others want to meet back up again." she comments once Shiver was awake enough to talk to.

"It appears that they are ready."

Shiver pours himself and his ward coffee, while she takes the muffins out of the tins and places them onto the small plate in the center of the table. Breakfast is a quiet affair, as if the verbosity of the night before had drained the words from his lungs and they needed to replenish.

"We should prepare."

A brief conversation with Bakatare covers the time and place of the meet, confirming that no unwelcome visitors had imposed upon their hospitality during the night.

Pulling the form-fitting attire on beneath his slacks and shirt, the troll's attire is every bit the world-weary executive. He slips on the overcoat and retrieves his cane from the coat rack it rested against when he was at home. Absent-mindedly, Shiver clips the gun with concealable holster that Desdemona was so fond of on to his belt in the small of his back. The same place it had been each time he had gone out with Angelina before when the expectation of something bad happening had been present.

He settles the fedora between his horns and looks to his ward.

"Shall we?," he asks and upon the positive response heads down to the ground floor. The doorman hails down a taxi, which promptly delivers them to a sidewalk cafe a few blocks from the meet site.

As it pulls away, they begin walking. An aging troll-changeling, leaning heavily on his cane, with his younger cousin at his side.

After the plans had been made and discussed, Hiroto spent some time in Meditation, thinking back to his wife and her tragic death, his family left behind in Japan. Someday he would make it all right, as right as it could get.

Escorting the two newcomers into the apartment, he motioned them to one of the couches or chairs in the living room, and took the arm of the couch again himself.

A solid 30 minutes later found him somewhat parched and looking appraisingly at the two of them. He'd spelled out the entire plan, including their cover to get multiple members into the party with the catering and entertainment, the targets when it all went down, and what everyone should be doing.

After answering the last of the questions, he glanced to Hiroto and Aaron again, motioning towards the door. He stopped by his room and gathered up the bit of rope, the syringe, and his staff. He paused on his way out of the apartment.

"We're headed into the Barrens to meet with a friend of mine that might have a few last details. Shouldn't be gone more then a couple of hours. I suggest everyone rest up and prepare whatever needs to be prepared. We've only got a two days until the party. Murrey, if you could provide us with a ride?"

Murrey walks up to Bakatare, "Can I borrow your laundry? I theed to wash nese clothes."

Bakatare archs a brow, but nods. Of course. Wasn't like they were operating out of everyone's home. He tossed a slim silver credstick to Murrey.

"We'll meet you down at the front doors when you're ready to go."

Murrey's Vehicle

As the city moves past the window, the street lights blur and distort the the lines of the buildings till everything takes on a surreal aspect. You feel the distance that can grow in a city. the apathy that grips the night walkers and people that scrabble for survival in the cracks. The city slowly begins to change, the garish night lights of the downtown area slowly give way to the orderly street lights of suburban homes. You travel through the hallmark moments of the middle class, seeing mostly dark homes and manicured lawns.

As the van nimbly makes its way through the streets and highways of the city, you began to see the slow decay overtake the area around you. The homes become apartments and squats. The graffiti becomes more prevalent all around you. You see the burnt out and hallowed faces of the people living on the streets, huddled around trash bins and fires. Warning signs proclaim the lack of Lone Star response and the driver's inherent responsibility in continuing past this point. You begin to feel the tension build, you feel the pulse of predator and prey move through you. This could be your new home, all that stands between you and this is one bad run.

As you look out the Barrens sprawls around you. Shells of abandoned buildings, the sound of distant gunfire and the packs of people gathered together like tribes in a desolate wasteland. Eyes linger on the vehicle, a hunger for something flashes in each of them. You soon arrive at the GPS coordinates and found yourself outside an old skate rink. The sagging sign proudly proclaims Skate World.

This is what he was trained for, protecting someone heading into an unknown danger, relying on his wits and Talent to get the job done.

Aaron perched in his seat, 'on the job' now, he maintained a constant level of awareness that few could match. His SMG sat on the floor beside his seat, where he could stash it quickly on the off chance they were stopped by the Star, but where he could lay hands on it instantly when trouble popped up.

They stopped at an abandoned old skate rink, looking close enough to collapse that Aaron had misgivings about letting his principal into the building without a safety inspection. He scooped up his SMG and slipped into the sling then pulled his armored synthleather jacket closed.

He took a deep breath and settled himself, ready for whatever came next.

He contained a grimace of distate as they moved through the suburban paradise. So plebian, so normal, all the saririman and the middle class. He never wanted to be like that, he detested that commonality, that lack of distinction.

Then the reality of the quest came crashing back down, erroding his inner resolve and almost reducing him to tears. He was normal. There wasn't anything special about him, no great destiny, no hidden heritage. His hands clenched around the staff he carried almost compulsively now, knuckles white, thankful for the dim interior of the van as he wrestled his feelings back into place.

By the time they arrived at the rink, he was already thinking ahead, focused on what was going on. A stream of Latin filled the vehicle as he chanted, at first to no effect, but seconds later a neon blue glow settled over his body like a second suit. He exhaled, grateful at least that his lack of confidence hadn't impaired his ability to force the flows of mana to his will.

Years of subliminal conditioning surfaced as he drove deeper into this Plascrete Jungle, the subtle gradiations from serene and surreal to gritty and all too real. The subtle reminder that tax payers don't live here thoughtfully placed by the 'Star. Murrey stretched his electronic senses out into the night.
Okay Mike, checklist time:
Van, check.
Guns, check.
Belts of ammunition in the guns, check.
Hostile intent to use said guns, check.
Cargo of several walking/rolling felonies, check.
Clean driving clothes, check.
Will to live, check.
Alternate ride waiting just inside the safe area and the route here already laid in, check and check.
Medication to stop talking to yourself, drek.

On the final approach to the location, Murrey speaks to the team, "Okay Ramblers, let's get ramblin'. We know our jobs, but let's just say the plan out loud one more time so we all have it clear."

Barrens

As the van idles in the remnants of the parking lot of the roller rink, small movement happens all around. Squatters scurry from side areas fleeing from obvious predators. The lean faces of less beaten down residents can be seen from the other side of the street, in the broken out windows of the strip mall.

Aaron

You quickly feel your senses come alive in this environment. This was the arena that you were trained for. As you scan around you, you pick out the movement of the vagrants as they move to less active squats. None them register as potential threats and move on. You peer towards the cored out strip mall and begin to pick out shapes and movement. You spot several small firearms and gangers with them. They seem to be checking you out, seeing if you're too tough to take a bite out of.

Bakatare

You look out around you and quickly spot the potential trouble across the street. They look like street toughs trying to work up the nerve to take a run at you. You slide from the mundane and pull yourself across the veil into the astral and look. You suppress the revulsion as you feel the oily layer of misery that seems to lay across everything. The landscape is painted with splashs of lurid reds from violence and anger. You focus in on the skate rink and are surprised to see the shimmer of a ward across the open spaces of the windows. As you examine it, you think a ward has been erected across most of the ways in except for the main entrance. The astral space just outside the rink is soaked with primal washes of emotions - fear, hunger, need, and pain seem to stain the ground.

Murrey

You feel the comfortable embrace of the machine catch you as you fall into it. You stretch your senses out and begin to receive streams of data. You quickly begin to translate the information and make out numerous heat signatures in the rink, around the exterior and several across the street. You quickly focus in and tag a few small arms amongst the crowd across the street.

Murrey watches the would-be predators as they weigh their man-hood against that nagging feeling of impending lead poisoning.

He spoke quietly and concisely.

"A group of toughs across the road, uncertain as to whether they'll try something.

The entrances and exits to the rink are warded. I don't know if it's to keep out creatures or people prepped with spells. There's a miasma over the space around the rink...something washed in hunger, need, and fear.

The plans pretty simple. We're going to go in there, I'm going to hand over a few items for some examination by a contact of my friends, and then we're going to get our info and walk out. If fighting breaks out, try not to geek our contact here."

He glances around the interior, looking at each of them prepped and ready in their own way.

"Any questions?"

"None here."

Aaron shrugs one last time to settle the SMG on its sling, making sure it's an easy grip but not too obvious.

"Nope, ready on your lead boss."

Hiroto nodded. He shifted the duffel bag at his feet a little closer, and eased the zipper open. Removing two wrapped cloth bundles from the bag he carefully unwrapped his two custom crafted smg's. Sliding them carefully into holsters beneath his coat after a quick check he responded. "All good to go, I'll follow your lead."

Hiroto returned his two sheathed blades to his lap, and placed his oriental helmet beside himself.

Bakatare nodded, feeling the reassuring phantom pressure of his ally spirit in the astral coiled around his shoulders.

As Murrey opened the door, he stepped out of the van, the world around him moving through molassas compared to the magic running through his veins. He glanced to the left and to the right, trusting the other two to notice the thugs if they came.

Murrey, you staying with the vehicle or coming in? he sent over the comms as the group walked towards the door.

Hirito

As you step from the van, you feel the tension wash over your back of eyes following your every move. You look behind you and feel rather than see the movement from the burnt out mini-mall. As you open your spirit to the world layered beneath, you are immediately struck by the anger and hunger that lingers everywhere. You pull deep within yourself and push past the raw human emotion that stains the area, you quickly catch a fleeting sense of a predator.

Barrens

You are struck by the sudden silence as you exit the vehicle. As if some great beast was holding its breath, waiting for something or someone.

Hiroto quickly harnessed his blades across his back and placed his helmet on his head, looking around he surveyed the area, taking in everything.

"Something prowls these walls, more than the usual predator I suspect."

Over comms, I will watch for agression from our here. The dugs following us like to hit the vehicle first and I'd prefer to have the chance to dissuade them. However, I can send in a throne with you, a small spider to allow me to have a pressence inside.

The small spider drone crawls forward, as if to say "Carry me."

Stooping down, he scoops the spider up and sets it on his shoulder, giving a nod of assent to Murrey's plan to the drone as he picks it up.

Probably better to keep moving in the local area then. We'll holler if we need a fast pick up.

Understood.

Barrens

There is a sudden contraction around you, as the breath being held is forcefully expelled. The rage filled screams of those ground into the ground by life erupts from across the street as a wave of bodies pours out, all carrying weapons of some sort. You see a collection of small handguns, larger semi-automatics and pipes.

Murrey

A larger reading blossoms onto your awareness. You quickly make a troll with some sort of large metallic object. The computers work to identify it, it seems to be too large for a rifle or machine gun.

Barrens

The screams of rage seem to echo hollow on the burnt out buildings around the area. Two groups of people surge forward, eating up the distance from the van in moments. The dim lights catch and reflect off of glass and steel as they advance towards the group. The wave of bodies is five meters from the van.

The people moving from the back fan out and cover less distance as they take cover from debris and begin readying guns and rifles. They stop about 10-15 meters from the group. The dead reflections of thier eyes seem to flash back at the group, drained of anything human.

Behind it all a large frame stands in the shadowed archway of the broken wall the mob poured out of. Something large and metallis gleams in the figure's hands but the detail is hard to make at the 30 meters or so distance from the van.

Barrens

The cries of rage and fury are quickly interrupted by the stutter of burst fire. Hiroto brings both guns up and without much apparent effort selects for different targets from the huddle of figure lugging larger firearms. With precision three of their number twist and turn as they hit the ground. The last target able to make some soft cover is the only reason she hasn't joined her companions. One arm goes slack and hangs useless at her side.

Almost as a counterpoint to the gunfire, Bakatare's voice rises above the din. Clear crisp words flow from his mouth, it sounds like latin and the air around his body begins to shimmer and twist. The charge leaps from his body and arcs to the troll in the doorway, at its release a faint cry of some otherwordly beast. The figure in the doorway seems to fight the lethargy that overtakes it but finally slumps to the ground, a loud clatter as whatever it was carrying hits the pavement.

Barres

The burst of gunfire and spell chants ringing in his ears convinced Aaron that the targets at range were engaged so he left his SMG where it was and glided in between Bakatare and the closest group of assailants.

Barrens

As Aaron moves with effortless speed and balance, he stops a good distance from the crowd armed with whatever heavy and blunt object they could find. You watch as he seems to grow still, focusing inward and then suddenly outward. He appears to go through a kata of some sort designed to lay his opponent out. A comical look of surprise shows on a squatter's face as he feels the blow contact with his body despite the meters distance between him and Aaron.

Over Drone network:Emergency Deployment, Lynx Beta: Go! Stun, highlighted target group.
Over Radio: Loing goud!
The drones ionthe back spring to action, executing a pre-programmed ballet of motion in the cramped space, one drone opens a door, one of the lynx' drives out, rattling onto the concrete and whipping it's turret around as it moves as another drone slams the door closed.
For the van, three LMG's roll out from their concealed ports as one begins spitting fire as it slides into place, the bullets whizzing angrily towards the troll at the far end of the fray.
I'm sorry friend, you're pig and backing a threat to me and mine. I hope you find your way to the happy grunting hounds after this.

Barrens

The troll's body dances and jerks like a puppet with tangled strings. The concealed gun ports all tracking the body's erratic movement across the pavement. The heavy gunfire almost conceals the high pitch whine of a grenade sailing through the air. It lands in the center of a group releasing a heavy concussive thud. The sound of grunts and bodies hitting the broken pavement follows.

One small knot of desperate squatters seem to turn as one creature and a hail of gunfire arcs it's way towards Bakatare. The sound of missed shots ring out around the runners. Some ricochetting off the broken bits of concrete, others off the armored skin of the van.

Barrens

Bakatare twists and turns, struggling to provide as small as a target as possible to the incoming hail of bullets. Despite his best efforts several shots connect and red blossoms sprout from his chest. He staggers slightly and ends up leaning heavily against the van, his breath ragged and labored.

The small pack of squatters armed with bats, chains and other debris seem to take heart from the injury inflicted to one of the runners. They sruge forward like a wave and engulf Aaron.

Barrens

Aaron is soon lost on the sprawl of bodies, the dull heavy thud of a body being struck several times comes from the center of the mob. They swarm like a rabid pack of dogs hoping to bear him to the ground by their sheer numbers and mass alone.

Seeing the relative success of the first group, another mob rushes forward brandishing weapons and rolling over Hiroto like a wave. The air is filled with the whistles of blades and glass being swung through the air.

Barrens

The crowd that seemed to contract around Hiroto just as quickly expands as the sound of a gun being opened up explodes into the night. At least two of his attackers are laid out from the gunfire, their bodies twisting in the air before coming to rest on the ground, blood spreading from their open wounds.

Bakatare leaned against the van, feeling the warm liquid of his life drip through his fingers onto the pavement. Usually they weren't quite so quick to turn on him. Apparently the curse from the metaplanes was in full effect. He'd have to compensate for that in the future.

Feeling the comfortable weight of Sifrexehethenes coiled around his arm, he leaned on his familiar's strength, borrowing it briefly as he coiled the drifts of energy from the world around him between his palms, chanting quickly in Latin as he focused, blocking out the pain and the distractions, ignoring everything except the two groups and his companions.

With a final curt word he spread his fingers as the invisible ball of force sped from his hand, arcing up and hanging for a long moment in the sky as it dropped in the center of the space between the two groups. He felt his magic buffer against his own shields around his ally, quickly feeding threads to shore them against the onslaught, and watched the magic ripple through the groups.

Barrens

The pulse of released mana slams into the small mob gathered. The sound of multiple bodies falling senseless to the ground echoes out from around the van. The magic seems to twist and avoid the two members of the team caught in its wake.

Barrens

Once again Aaron turns and appears to complete a kata where he stands. A yell of pain and surprise comes from the lead member of the last remaining mob as he is suddenly droppped from an invisible blow to his midsection.

Murrey send over his network: Lynx, take out that last cluster as he begins to scan for any other hostile forces.

Barrens

The drone swivels neaty and launches another grenade into the air where it detonates over the small group of gunmen. Some try to run to somehow get clear of the explosive but are caught in the edges of the blast. The final sound is the grunts and groans of the group followed by the thuds of bodies hitting the ground senseless. The quiet seems to rush in from all around as the battle ends.

Hiroto surveyed the battlefield, watching for any additional forces. He winced internally at the two blows that had connected hard enough, they would leave some bruising but nothing serious.

He poped the two clips out and reloaded with two full ones, dropping the half spent clips into his bag in the van. Leaving the knocked out gangers on the ground he scouted the area a short distance.

Deploying the MK-6 with a med kit, Murrey begins triaging the gangers and first aid on the dying, and using thier own chains, belts and shoelaces to secure the soon to be walking wounded.
Over the comm, I've got my eyes out, go make care of the business before tore get used to attack us.

Clenching his hand to his side to stop the flow of blood, he glances around at the bodies, giving the scene time to burn itself into his mind. Some would never rise again, some would...some would be killed by others before they regained consciousness. He never hesitated to defend his life or the lives of his companions, but the consequences of his actions could never be avoided, nevermind the reasons.

He triggered the commlink and sent the subvocal check out to the rest of the team.

"Sound off if you've got got anything worse then bruises. Then meet up in front of the rink."

Over comm, "See the rolling drone? Get that looked at before you thread evidence every where. I don't mind earning some good karma, but you've just been bumped up se triage list."

Bakatare nods, walking stiffly over to the drone.