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The Parking Lot cometh ATTN: TFV

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The Parking Lot cometh ATTN: TFV

Post by Seryna on Sat Jun 25, 2011 8:13 pm

The day that the TFV had been waiting on had arrived. While Donahue had been kept busy with personal business, what were the other two up to in the two days until the parking lot meeting rolled around?

The morning of the meet dawned. You had some four hours before the meeting in the afternoon, as the group had discussed setting up in the parking lot prior. Research showed that the parking lot in question was attached to the Green Fields retirement home. Any surveillance on the home showed brisk morning departures of single or pairs of elderly citizens in vans - perhaps ferrying to doctor's appointments and such. All activity seemed limited to the first few yards of the parking structure where the retirement home parked its vans.

The parking structure further from the vans stretched in shadow, building maintenance seemed spotty this far from the attendants notice. Half of the bulbs are burned out, casting long shadows along the walls and small pockets of darkness in the center of the vast space.

The entry ways to the parking lot were straight forward - one could take the ramp from Green Fields directly into the well lit portion of the parking lot. There was also a ramp for vehicles beside this entrance, in full view of Green Fields.

For a more discreet approach, one could circle towards the back of the parking lot and enter through the large, square shaped openings in the concrete structure that were intended to let the light in. These windows were now overgrown with shrubbery, but it was passable.

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Re: The Parking Lot cometh ATTN: TFV

Post by Kazakin on Sat Jun 25, 2011 8:31 pm

Donahue shifted the cigarette to the corner of his mouth, his eyes moving over the map. The burnt out bulbs from his initial scout could be a problem. Walking in with those blindspots was fucking dangerous; he was way too familiar with the ease in which someone could conceal themselves in a dark spot. After all, it was what he would have done.

"Okay, this is what we're gonna do. I'm gonna move around the back and vanish into the shrubbery; there's a nice overlook spot here," the veteran indicated on the map. "Hunter, I want you out front with binoculars, guns at the ready. Bristol, set up your parabolic microphone from the SUV. No one should see you through the windows. Thank God for fuckin' tints." Donahue blew out a cloud of smoke through his teeth.

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Re: The Parking Lot cometh ATTN: TFV

Post by Tehrat on Sat Jun 25, 2011 8:38 pm

"I'm on it," Laura announced brusquely. She moved about the van, setting up the necessary equipment before slipping onto the front passenger seat to stabilise the parabolic.

It felt good to get back to work again. Sure, they had had a little downtime but doing this made sense. It kept her active, kept her from slipping back into old habits. It was tempting though...with her skills...any tidbit of information was at her disposal. And people would pay a lot for the right sort of information.

She had never been in it for the money, but it was nice to get a payload with the adrenaline kick.

At least she had remained on the legal side of the tracks these last few days. Freelance programming work wasn't exactly a thrill-seeking dream, but it had been good to do something on the side.

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Re: The Parking Lot cometh ATTN: TFV

Post by Seryna on Sun Jul 03, 2011 8:43 pm

Donahue just wanted to listen to them talking, and hopefully take 'em out once they've given all necessary information...unless we're outnumbered. Stay radio silent just in case.

Mike just wants them dead after they've got their info so he can get a drink... and making him wait 4 hours gives him another reason to want to shoot them.

Laura shifted her position in the van, grimacing at the continued, near hunched over position that she had been in for the last few hours. It wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the lack of movement - she couldn't even pace in the damned limited space. She sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose as she prepared for another few hours of waiting. At least she'd stashed a chocolate bar...now if only they could pause time and go for a coffee run...

Bristol hears a rustling noise as she sits silently, alone in the van. The rustling is amplified for her based on where she had set up her microphone. Any glance to the hidden microphone shows absolutely nothing in sight. Let theres a definite sound of a foot fall. The soft rusltling sound of fabric, unseen in the shadows of the garage, but present nonetheless.

Laura paused, brow arching as she glanced automatically to study the hidden mic. "I have footsteps over here. You guys see anything outside?" she questioned, her voice a low whisper.

From his high vantage position, Mike had a sniper rifle aimed at the entrance. "Movement confirmed." Mike quietly spoke back over the radio.
From thier various vantage points, the men become aware of movement by the doors to the retirement home. A green clad orderly, presumably employed by Green Acres, pushes a frail elderly man in a wheel chair. They pause by the vans, but the man makes no move to load his charge within. The older man makes a gesture, a quiet murmering. The green clad orderly steps back, pausing by the van. He turns his back, watching the doorway. The elderly man scoots himself forward slowly, with great effort. He gives no glance to Bristol's hiding place or the men's vantage points.

Donahue kept his eye to the scope, squinting from the overgrown back entrance to see out any movement from his end. He spoke in a low voice into the microphone. "Hold position."

"Understood." Mike relayed back, keeping his finger on the trigger.
The wheel chair bound man manages to make it farther into the parking lot. He comes to a slow halt at the cusp of the long, circular shadows. The shadow eliminates a good view of the man, making him appear sinister. Yet from within the shadow, you see a hand reach out from the shadows, into your view. The elderly man accepts the unknown greeting, shaking hands with the being clothed in shadow. "The women late?" The unknown voice - husky, hoarse... speaks. "The women are late." The old man replies. "But you know the Widow can't come." He smiles, with no mirth. "Due to the hour you chose." "Tone." The Unknown chastises. "We're all coming together soon enough. We're nearly there."

Donahue internally considered that the women were very late indeed. It probably had something to do with the bullets he had put through their heads.

Laura, with a small turn of her head, ensured that the recording equipment was still picking everything up as she listened through the headphones.

Mike grimaced as the shadows moslty obscured his two targets, feeling inside the weapon case next to him for one of the other rifle scopes to see if either made a difference.

There is a pause . "Where is leather coat?" The hoarse, unseen man questions. "He dislikes these meetings." The old man replies. "The Lady wished that he would come." The man's voice rumbles with anger. The wlderly man does not react, speaking smoothly in a calm vioice. "We were all chosen for a reason, my dear Shade. I assume that our tendencies and provoclivities were all factored into the big picture. Now. You have something for me?" Theres a pause. A pause so long you wonder if the shadow man had vanished completely. Yet a hand reaches out from the dark. holding a folded piece of paper.

The old man accepts the paper, opens it. He takes a long minute to read the paper before lowering it. The hand reaches out, gesturing to recieve the paper. The old man yields the aper - instructions,updates, orders?- wordlessly.

Mike glanced at the pair through an unattached infra-red scope, hoping to get a better look at them.

Donahue tries to draw a bead on the shadow creature, based on the movement of the hand. He stills his breathing, preparing to take a shot if he can get one.

The elderly man in the wheelchair is in plain view in the scope... yet the blackness yielded nothing to Mike. The infra red seemed to be malfunctioning, as the blackness seemed unpenetrable. The shadow creature seemed to blur and come apart. One moment his shoulders were four feet wide, the next, a mere foot. He seemed made of true shadow and some thing that evaded a clear picture of his position.

Mike spoke over the radio: "Second figure definitely supernatural..."

Donahue was personally more concerned by the little old man, sure an obviously terrible shadow creature clearly wasn't a good thing...but some fucking old guy wheeling out to it, and having a chat was definitely creepy.

"Then I'll alert you if theres any change." The elderly man replies. "Occasionally they do visit me. The usual methods of contact?" The man pauses. He turns his head, searching the darkness sightlessly. In your sights the being widens...narrows...even its arms lengthen and distort. It slowly begins to shrink in on itself, becoming smaller supernaturally fast. the elderly man seems unaware of the fantastic event, staring into the black, awaiting a reply. As you watch, the shadow folds in on it self and shrinks one final time. Now you wonder if it is perhaps there, unseen, watching the old man... and perhaps you.

"Have a bead on the old bastard. Expendable?" Mike enquired over the radio.

Donahue touches his ear mic. "When the old man moves to return to the care home, intercept. Wait until he's in plain sight of the orderlies."
The man waits for a minute, glancing around. He turns and begins to wheel away, towards the waiting orderly. The green clad orderly turns at the man's approach, watching him. He straightens and steps out from behind the van, watching the elderly man aproach him.

Donahue moved out of position, carefully taking the back route around towards the van. He trusted that Laura or Mike would get there first, since his legs weren't gonna be kind enough to let him sprint. "And make sure whatever you tell them is convincing. No 'you're a fucking paedophile' shit. Guy probably can't even stand on his own."


((http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=a020f0d5 2 successes for Laura!))
As Laura listens to Donahue's orders, she hears something to the left of the vehicle. Some movement, perhaps- then she hears a terrible screeching. The sound of nails on a chalk board... or nails grating along the side of the vehicle where Laura sits. Someone is out side the door of the vehicle, scratching with its abnormal finger nails.


Laura hit the locks on the door. "Oh, great. Sounds like someone's keying the van. With their fingers. Anybody watch that Slasher movie, Urban Legend?" Her voice was low as she spoke, although a little exasperated. She'd had a whole spiel in her head for the old guy, too. At least they'd got a visual ID; they'd have to check him out later.

The screeching wraps towards the front of the van, its long hand briefly trailing over the front of the van, showing Laura its long, delicate fingers. Each was tipped with a curved claw at least in inch in length. It moves its index finger in a circle around the glass, a playful motion, it seemed to Laura. Then the hand retracted. If the men turn to glance to the van, they see a black clad, 6 '1'' figure lope through the hedges that Donahue had vacated.

Donahue grimaced, moving towards the van the minute Laura reported the thing at the door. He hefted the rifle when he saw the thing moving through the hedges, steadied himself, and fired. It was a snap decision, but fuck. No one fucks with D's team.

((http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=ef9cef2c 7 successes))


Laura stepped from the van, moving straight toward the two men; although she peered over her shoulder as Donahue fired at the shadow thing. "My flippancy aside, that bastard is pretty fucking creepy. On that note...did you get it?"

The creature was wrestling its way through the hedges when Donahue's bullet slices deftly through the brush. It penetrates the creatures unknown flesh, causing it to plummet forwards, out of sight outside.

"Converge on the target, Hunter," Donahue barked into his mic. "Bristol, behind me."


Mike obeyed.

Donahue moved up more slowly, his limp pronounced from his previously prone position. He kept the long rifle up in his hands, his eye at the scope as he scanned the area.

Mike races down along the ramp that ran besides the parking lot. He spots the new broken brush and lowers his eyes to the ground below. He sees the black clad creature, convulsing. Its chest rises up and down from the ground, violently. Its inhuman, long fingers are outreached upwards, contracting.

Laura waited for Donahue to pass her, and slipped behind him to allow him to take point. Considering the damage that he had done, it made sense to let him do all the work. She could...throw a laptop at something later, if it was necessary.

Donahue sees that the old man has now reached his orderly. Both are glancing around in wonder, but the orderly takes the mans wheelchair and pushes him rapidly away.

Mike was glad of his tactical weapon switch, having abandoned the rifle for his two Colts, conveniently loaded with etheric rounds. Seeing as the creature was live and apparently incapacitated, Mike kept both his Colts trained on it, refraining from shooting until the situation required it.

The creature remains flat on its back on the ground, convulsing. It does not reward Mike's prudence with attack. instead it slowly ceased to move. He now sees that it wears a black leather mask that hides its face. The creature goes limp - unconscious, perhaps in shock. Its hands fall limp beside it.

2011-07-03 21:59:52 Beast rolled 8 dice to "Transform (Stamina + 4 )" 5,10,4,3,1,1,10,5,2,7 (2 successes) ( 1 suxx to face, 1 suxx to complete hands)

Donahue limped forwards, moving up to Mike. He glanced down, and with quick hands, tugged the leather mask off the thing's face.

Mike kept both weapons trained on it regardless.

The mask comes off easily. Mike remains trained in case it now attacks, but the being remains still. Surprisingly, the mask hides a Caucasin face. The hair is dark, a full head of hair. The man's eyes are closed, having lost consciousness.

Donahue leant down with a little hiss of pain through his teeth. He cuffed the formerly masked man, behind his back.

"He's... just a man," Laura frowned as she studied the face. "I was expecting... I dunno..."

"What I saw through my scope was no mere man." Mike said. "Looked like a living shadow. Guess they had a third man tonight."

As Donahue cuffs the man, he notes that the man's hands now look normal. Glancing to the ground, you spot several acryllic nails on the ground. If one examines the underside, they have residue that could be glue upon them.

As the three secure the unknown man, they hear a car pull up. A man exits, flashing a police badge. He is Korean - American, and the badge looks legit. He approaches and examines the cuffed man visually. He glances at each of you in turn, apparently surprised.

"Or maybe you two're both right. How many times does it have to be said? ENEs have a habit of turning into normal humans when you kill 'em or render 'em out cold. Did either of you read the fucking field manual?" Donahue snapped irritably before the man arrived. When he did, he stood up, pulled out his FBI badge and flashed it in response. "Special Agent Ruby. This isn't your jurisdiction, bucko."
Laura internally wondered if D requisitioned special, vaguely humourous names for his TFV IDs.

"FBI?" The man approaches, glancing at the badge. He doesn't make a motion to leave. "I'm Detective Kim of Detroit P.D. My Captain cleared me to examine this area after a tip off the station recieved this morning." He glances at each of your faces.

"Yeah, FBI, and officially ruling this scene 'None of local P.D's damn business'. You got a problem with that, call my superiors," Donahue lit a cigarette. "Secure the suspect, Agent Foster."
"Yes sir." MIke responded, suppressing a grin at Donahue's choice of false identity for him.

"I see." The Detective nods, appreciating Donahue's words. He takes a ste back, lowering his eyes to the 'suspect.' I wouldn't suggest extending a bit of courtesy to one another, then." The Detective smiles, an understanding smile. . He glances towards Bristol and Mike, his eyes lingering on Mike's holsters. "I am currently pursuing a very dangerous serial killer we believe could be meeting an accomplice here. He's killed six people so far. I'm sure that with your resources, we could apprehend him before he takes a seventh victim." He tilts his head as he examines the suspects face. "Mind if I ask for this suspects I.D.?"

"Yeah, I do mind, Detective," Donahue said flatly. "'Cause I assure you, this guy ain't going anywhere but jail." Or alternatively, the shed in D's back yard.

"All right, Agent Ruby." The detective steps back towards his car. "Good luck with your investigation."

"Y'know, you need to learn how to play nice with people from other schoolyards," Laura chastised gently. "He might have had information that could've helped us."
Donahue glanced at Laura. "That's the sound of a volunteer. Move your ass."

"Glad to be of service, SAC Ruby," Laura responded glibly. She moved past Donahue, walking unhurriedly after Detective Kim. "You'll have to excuse him. He doesn't get to play outside often."

As Laura approaches the detective, she see him on a cell phone. Perhaps he *was* calling your *superiors*, after all. He lowers the phone at Laura's approach. "Understood, agent." His smile is professional, if there is signal of insincerety in his voice. You imagine being ushered away by the FBI burns him.


Mike looked at the cuffed man in black. "If he Shadows up again I'm shooting parts off."

"And by the time it was processed, you didn't see fit to send out more than one person for a potential serial killer? I understand the police departments do things differently to the FBI, but that just seems a bit foolhardy to me. Almost like you're burning the candle at both ends, huh? You look like you just ran here," Laura probed.


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Re: The Parking Lot cometh ATTN: TFV

Post by Seryna on Sun Jul 03, 2011 11:01 pm


Jake: Mike kept both weapons trained on it regardless.
Seryna: The mask comes off easily. Mike remains trained in case it now attacks, but the being remains still.

Surprisingly, the mask hides a Caucasin face. The hair is dark, a full head of hair. The man's eyes are closed,

having lost consciousness.
Jack Robinson: Donahue leant down with a little hiss of pain through his teeth. He cuffed the formerly masked

man, behind his back.
Jack Robinson: "He's... just a man," Laura frowned as she studied the face. "I was expecting... I dunno..."
Jake: "What I saw through my scope was no mere man." Mike said. "Looked like a living shadow. Guess they had a

third man tonight."
Seryna: As Donahue cuffs the man, he notes that the man's hands now look normal. Glancing to the ground, you

spot several acryllic nails on the ground. If one examines the underside, they have residue that could be glue

upon them.
Seryna: As the three secure the unknown man, they hear a car pull up. A man exits, flashing a police badge. He

is Korean - American, and the badge looks legit. He approaches and examines the cuffed man visually. He

glances at each of you in turn, apparently surprised.
Jack Robinson: "Or maybe you two're both right. How many times does it have to be said? ENEs have a habit of

turning into normal humans when you kill 'em or render 'em out cold. Did either of you read the fucking field

manual?" Donahue snapped irritably before the man arrived. When he did, he stood up, pulled out his FBI badge

and flashed it in response. "Special Agent Ruby. This isn't your jurisdiction, bucko."
Jack Robinson: Laura internally wondered if D requisitioned special, vaguely humourous names for his TFV IDs.
Seryna: "FBI?" The man approaches, glancing at the badge. He doesn't make a motion to leave. "I'm Detective

Kim of Detroit P.D. My Captain cleared me to examine this area after a tip off the station recieved this

morning." He glances at each of your faces.
Jack Robinson: "Yeah, FBI, and officially ruling this scene 'None of local P.D's damn business'. You got a

problem with that, call my superiors," Donahue lit a cigarette. "Secure the suspect, Agent Foster."
Jake: "Yes sir." MIke responded, suppressing a grin at Donahue's choice of false identity for him.
Seryna: "I see." The Detective nods, appreciating Donahue's words. He takes a ste back, lowering his eyes to

the 'suspect.' I wouldn't suggest extending a bit of courtesy to one another, then." The Detective smiles, an

understanding smile. . He glances towards Bristol and Mike, his eyes lingering on Mike's holsters. "I am

currently pursuing a very dangerous serial killer we believe could be meeting an accomplice here. He's killed

six people so far. I'm sure that with your resources, we could apprehend him before he takes a seventh

victim." He tilts his head as he examines the suspects face. "Mind if I ask for this suspects I.D.?"
Jack Robinson: "Yeah, I do mind, Detective," Donahue said flatly. "'Cause I assure you, this guy ain't going

anywhere but jail." Or alternatively, the shed in D's back yard.
Seryna: "All right, Agent Ruby." The detective steps back towards his car. "Good luck with your

investigation."
Jack Robinson: "Y'know, you need to learn how to play nice with people from other schoolyards," Laura chastised

gently. "He might have had information that could've helped us."
Jack Robinson: Donahue glanced at Laura. "That's the sound of a volunteer. Move your ass."
Jack Robinson: "Glad to be of service, SAC Ruby," Laura responded glibly. She moved past Donahue, walking

unhurriedly after Detective Kim. "You'll have to excuse him. He doesn't get to play outside often."
Seryna: As Laura approaches the detective, she see him on a cell phone. Perhaps he *was* calling your

*superiors*, after all. He lowers the phone at Laura's approach. "Understood, agent." His smile is

professional, if there is signal of insincerety in his voice. You imagine being ushered away by the FBI burns

him.
Jake: Mike looked at the cuffed man in black. "If he Shadows up again I'm shooting parts off."
Jack Robinson: In a contrast to Donahue's...specialist conversational ability, Laura is polite and appears to

speak in a genuine manner. "You say you were tracking a serial killer? I know our departments don't work

together well...or at all, but if our investigations are crossing over we need to know about it. We weren't

aware until you arrived that the PD were in on this."
Jack Robinson: "If he shadows up again, blow his head off," Donahue said crisply. "We don't have time to lose

an ENE over some stupid shit. Once Bristol's finished up, we'll go shake down the old guy and the orderly. They

saw the shooting anyway, so we got containment to do."
Seryna: The detective pockets his cell phone, ending the call. "Yes," He replies to Bristol. "- we recieved a

very odd tip that the serial killer would be meeting someone here." He turned and visually examined the

parking lot. "Odd place for a meet. But the note was very definite about the time. It appears I arrived five

minute lates." He gives a smile, one of those 'it figures' smiles. Bristol realized that five minutes ago *was*

the time they'd recovered from the last killer's body.
Jack Robinson: "Helpful tip off. D'you know who the contact was? Phone, email, letter?" Laura grilled, in a

calm, professional manner. She thought it was suspicious though. One, single detective to meet a serial killer?

No, something else was up. She was glad D's eyes would be on her.
Seryna: "Letter." The man replied, earnestly. Yet as he speaks, you sense deciet brewing. "It was recieved at

the precinct too late to effectively process it." You wonder at the lie therein. His face seems earnest

enough, there had been truth before he deviated somewhere along the way.
Jake: {brb}
Jack Robinson: "And by the time it was processed, you didn't see fit to send out more than one person for a

potential serial killer? I understand the police departments do things differently to the FBI, but that just

seems a bit foolhardy to me. Almost like you're burning the candle at both ends, huh? You look like you just

ran here," Laura probed.
Seryna: [lets pause briefly.]
Jack Robinson: ((Nooooo!Okay))
Seryna: lol
Seryna: i need a lunch break
Seryna: my dinners already here
Jack Robinson: LoL! We just ate.
Jack Robinson: But we can totally wait for you to get back.We need to continue this!
Seryna: great
Jake: [back]
Seryna: yay!
Jack Robinson: Woot!
Jake: putting my dinner on too
Seryna: "There... seemed little time to waste in the labs." Now there was the vein of truth. "I have to find

the Calculator before he strikes again. He's been far too slippery so far. At every pause for the red tape, he

seems to slip away. No forensic evidence is going to betray this one."

Seryna: lol
Seryna: yay dinner time
Jack Robinson: "...The Calculator?" Laura parroted. "That's what your serial killer is calling himself?"
Seryna: "Yes. Its his moniker and his business, both." There's a grimance on the Detective's face. "He doesn't

kill at randomn. He's both intelligent and proficient at avoiding the mistakes that lead to apprehension by the

authorities." The detectives eyes move to the parking lot. "I honestly thought this tip was it. Although if I

must say, the odds of a police detective and three FBI angents meeting at a returement home are not very

likely." Now he's watching your face.
Jack Robinson: "We were looking for a guy called Shade," Laura stated evenly, considering the appropriate name

the team had heard over the headsets. "But it sounds like maybe we've got your accomplice, or vice versa."
Seryna: "Shade?" The detective shakes his head. "Haven't heard of him. Yet it could very well be involved. The

man is far too lucky not to have some connections"
Jack Robinson: "Perhaps we should meet somewhere more appropriate, where we can discuss the case. Don't worry,

I'll clear it with Agent Ruby and we can talk this matter over," Laura suggested simply. "Bring any police

files that might be appropriate."
Seryna: "That has potential." The detective nods. He reaches into his wallet and hands you a business card.

"Call me when your business is wrapped up. I'll get the relevant files. It was nice to meet your acquaintance,

Agent..?"
Jack Robinson: Laura extends a hand. "Cable," she introduced herself. Taking the business card, she gave it a

quick once-over before slipping it into her pocket. "I'll see you soon."
Seryna: "Excellent. Good to meet you, Agnet Cable. I look forward to our meeting."
Jack Robinson: Laura stepped back to let Detective Kim head along to his car. "Ditto." Turning, she headed

back to "Ruby" and "Foster".
Seryna: *shakes Jake and Jack awake*
Jake: Mike was stood watch over the man in black, both Colts ready to fire.
Jack Robinson: Donahue grunted in approval. "Let's hope your volunteering wasn't to waste. Alright guys. Let's

wake this guy up and have a conversation in the van."
Jack Robinson: Laura smiled triumphantly. "Oh, he turned out to be pretty damn helpful," she said, then looked

over the wounded guy. "Alright. Let's get this psycho moving."
Jack Robinson: ((Laura: http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=37673607 4 successes on waking him

up, not trying to heal him though.))
Seryna: Lol, understood!
Jake: {Mike volunteers for hurting him }
Seryna: The man - Shadow suspect jerked upright. He wiggled a bit, discovering the limited nature of his

movement. He settled back on his hunches in an ackward kneel, his eyes flitting from person to person.
Jack Robinson: Donahue looked into the guy's eyes and flashed a thin-lipped smile. "Morning, sleeping beauty.

Now, you got a choice here. You can talk, or I can decorate the inside of our van with your skull. Your

choice."
Seryna: "I like my skull." The man speaks, somewhat sullen. His tongue seems swollen, perhaps an unseen injury

from his tumble.
Jack Robinson: "Smart choice. What's your name?" Donahue said, his finger on the trigger.
Seryna: The man rolled his eyes..then his head. He worked his neck, wincing in pain. "Rick." He replied as his

eyes center on Donahue. "You...work for Shade?"
Jack Robinson: "We're asking the questions, 'Rick'," Laura stated testily.
Jack Robinson: Donahue glanced at the tech approvingly, before his gaze flickered back to Rick. "And what

exactly were you doing fucking around with my van with those dumbfuck fake nails on?"
Seryna: His head lolls to the side, looking at Laura. A grin tugs at his lips as his head lolls to the other

side, to Mike. "You don't work for Shade. The girls; they never take to Shade." His eyes center on Donahue.

"Same reason dumbfucks do things they don't want to. For money."
Jake: "Haven't yet heard anything to make me not want to shoot Dick here." Mike stated, covering the suspect

from another angle.
Jack Robinson: "Last chance to smarten up and stop evading the question, wise guy," Donahue said pleasantly.
Seryna: "Shade paid me a pretty penny to scare people." He replied steadily. "They hire me to look in on the

old man. Old Bastard. I scare away the people he doesn't like."
Jack Robinson: "What's the old man's name, Rick? And why exactly would you need to scare people away from him?"

Donahue said coolly.
Seryna: " Old Man?" He cocks his head, answering Donahue."Archer. Acheson. No... Aitcheson. He's one of the

power - giver's little friends." He smiles. "You see? I answer your questions; I give you more. Maybe we

share. How much are you getting paid?" He answers himself nearly immediately. "I know, I know, you ask the

questions. You have the big guns. You have the pretty van. You could have so much more. "
Jack Robinson: "It was pretty, before you scratched the shit out of it," Laura commented dryly.
Seryna: "Details, details. Just a tad to repair it. I know a guy. "
Jack Robinson: Donahue's lips quirked in what might have been a smile, and he moved the cigarette with his

tongue. "And what exactly 'more' could I have, Rick?"
Seryna: "You smart man." Rick smiles. "You get man from out of country to shoot guns for you. He dissapear, he

no tied to you; yes? You surround yourself with young people, people who say 'yes sir'." He isn't smiling now,

he seems to be having a casual conversation. " People who can reach me faster than you can; with your limp.

That pain that gnaws at you." He sits very still. "Pain that will make you slow. Has made you slow." He

tilts his head. "It was just my nails on the side of your van, wasn't it? It wasn't Shade, slipping through

the crack and having a good long look at your pretty girl. A good long look at her electronic toys. At this

van." Now he's looking upwards at the van cieling.
Jake: Mike's fingers squeezed the triggers on his Colt to nigh-firing point, keeping them expertly trained on

Rick.
Jake: Colts*
Jack Robinson: Donahue sighed. "Oh, well. I tried," he said coldly, and cocked the gun.
Seryna: The odd man speaks again. You don't recognize the language. His tongue seems to be moving too fast,

making a gutteral, grunt sort of language. As he speaks, you notice that the sunlight fades. No, its the

middle of the after noon- looking at the van windows, you see shadows have descended over the vans windows,

clothing it all in black.
Jack Robinson: Donahue pulled the trigger, thanking God for silencers as the muffled shot rang out in the

enclosed space. His ears rang even so. "Emergency flares!" He barked as the darkness began to creep in.
Jack Robinson: ((http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=cdbc2c98 2 successes, called shot to the

head.))
Jack Robinson: Laura grabbed for the emergency flare bag underneath the seat and took a breath. "Typical. Next

time, we bring Phosphorous grenades."
Seryna: The bullet rings out in the enclosed space, causing signifigant pain to the ear drums of those

gathered. As the bits of skull begin to fleck the van floor, you realize the odd man is shrinking. His clothes

lie empty as he shrinks to the size of a cat, a childs play thing, a small pebble. As you glance away from the

odd shrinking man, the van cieling is thumped. Something is on the cieling...
Jake: Mike whipped both guns skywards and fired. (mods?)
Seryna: [-33]
Seryna: [um. 3]
Jake: [was gonna say...]
Jack Robinson: ((LoL, I want to see what roll would justify a -33.))
Seryna: [its reeeealy small...]
Jake: [midget wearing black at night, firing for called shot while blindfolded in a cardboard box]
Jack Robinson: (("I shoot myself in the back of the head with a sniper rifle"?))
Seryna: *shakes head* you were doomed before you started
Jake: [Yay! I can't possibly shoot myself.]

http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=6e0a473c
Jake: http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=63464508
Jake: [2] + [2]
Seryna: As Mike fires, you hear metal shriek. Then silence descends, with the darkness that descends upon the

van.
Jake: [Apologies for both the noise and majorly perforating the roof]
Jake: [On the plus side, paint the van yellow and our new cover is cheese sellers]
Jack Robinson: Donahue swore loudly when Mike fired his unsilenced pistols, and wondered if his eardrums had

ruptured. It was impossible to tell if the silence was the thing outside, or the ringing having ruined his

eardrums. He grabbed a flare and cracked it open, pointedly gesturing for Mike and Laura to stay put as he

moved towards the back of the van.
Jake: [Headache meds on Mike later...]
Jack Robinson: Laura cracked open her own flare and stepped back on reflex, sort of thankful that the MIB

uniform included sunglasses.
Seryna: The darkness persists, coating the windows of the van. Yet the black does not descend; patiently

waiting at the edge of the flares light.
Jake: Mike cracked open a third flare, holding it towards one of the windows to see if that shifted the

darkness at all.
Jack Robinson: Donahue pushed the van door at the back open and held the flare out first, into the darkness.
Seryna: The flare in Mike's hand does not affect the window at all
Seryna: As you exit the van, you note black, liquid drops on the cement by your feet. Turning to eye the roof

of the van, you see a pool of the black liquid by the two bullet holes in the van. Beside the holes, you spot

a distortion in the metal - as though someone had manipulated the metal of the roof by clenching thier hand

about it. The van seemed clothed in night, the sky above the van flecked by star light of a late evening.
Yet the sunlight persists to the left as Donahue turns his head to the right and to the left.
Seryna: [done]
Donahue gritted his teeth. "Y'know, it won't take long before we put another bullet in you, buddy," he said

quietly, just in case it could hear him. "You can play nice, or you can play dead, up to you. Your 'gift-giver'

isn't going to be worth shit here." The thought of no pain tugged at him though. Being able to walk normally

again. But fuck, this wasn't what he was in this for.
Seryna: A voice drifts to Donahue- an impossible voice. Rick's voice. "Yes, like I played nice. Now my skull

is all over the floor of the van. Going to make Foster scrub me up, are you?" The sound seems to be coming

from the van.
Jack Robinson: "No, you offered bullshit, and I told you what'd happen if you offered me bullshit, Rick. Shade.

Whoever the fuck you are.
Jack Robinson: "
Seryna: Theres laughter. The same sort of sound Rick had made around his smiles. "I like the girl. The star

light lights her hair so prettily." The voice has moved farther from you now, still coming from the van.

Beneath it? Atop of it?
Jake: Mike tries to work out where the voice is coming from, hoping to shoot the source of it.
Seryna: 011-07-04 00:18:14 Beast rolled 4 dice to "Hide in Shadow(4)" 10,4,6,2,4 (1 successes)
Jack Robinson: Donahue locked the door shut behind him, just to make damn sure. "Cable's not yours to play

with, bucko. Now, we can keep doing this, or I can have 'em activate our emergency failsafes. Which, just FYI,

will blow a very nice hole in this parking lot."
Jack Robinson: Laura looked around a little uneasily. "I uh... like my dates corporeal."
Jack Robinson: ((D's perception: http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=fba2c3ee 3 successes))
Jack Robinson: ((Laura's: http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=1c1c9afc 1 success))
Seryna: The three glance around, holding thier flares aloft. Yet the shadow slowly receedes, vanishing like

fog in the sun light. As the stars blink out, Donahue spots a small, flying creature departing with the shadow.

It was perhaps a bat..

Jack Robinson: Donahue snatched the rifle up and aimed for the bat through the sights. Fuck this guy! Fuck him

in the eye socket!
Seryna: [-6. ]
Jack Robinson: ((It's -5 for a headshot on a size 1 target, isn't it? Ooh, 6. Ouch.))
Jake: [-6 for my Colts... ouch]
Seryna: [guy has a nasty gift]
Jake: [Let's go for it]
Jake: http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=b709516b
http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=79565a54
[0]
Jack Robinson: ((Risked WP on a headshot: http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=d08c42d0 3

successes, thank you, Tactical Intervention bonus.))
Seryna: Mike fires twice, but his bullets fly past the tiny little creature. Yet Donahue is able to see the

black bat when it flutters upwards, into the sunlight. He squeezes his shot off then. He watches at the bat

pitches, then falls.
Jack Robinson: Donahue tracks it down to earth with his scope. "Bullshit, could you end my pain," he muttered

at the falling thing. "Couldn't even dodge a bullet."
Jake: Mike swore twice, first in frustration at having missed, then in appreciation as Donahue nailed the

little bastard. "Good shot Ruby." he grinned.
Jack Robinson: "...I can't believe I just got hit on by a shadow monster," Laura grumbled with more bravado

than she felt.
Jack Robinson: ((Can I see the bat corpse, or...?))
Seryna: Yes. There is a bat corpse
Seryna: Looks just like a regular bat
Jake: [Anyone got a lunchbox we can stick the little ex-bastard in?]
Jack Robinson: Donahue limped over to the bat corpse, pulled out his combat knife, and with some difficulty since he had to haul himself onto the floor, dismembered the thing and put it in a bunch of little plastic bags. Maybe Laura would like playing with it in the lab later.
Seryna: As Jack stares down at the bat, he sees movement from the home. He sees three of four green clad male orderlies peering at the van - and him- nervously. They seem small and compact, muscled only for transporting unruly patients. They hurry back inside the home nervously.
Jack Robinson: ((Cries of "Come back from THAT, bat boy!" optional))
Jake: "Joy. Crowd control and containment time." Mike grimaced.
Jack Robinson: Laura glanced at Mike. "D'you think we should mention that D dismembers small animals in parking lots to the higher-ups?" she said rhetorically, before heading over to Donahue.
Jake: "Only if we think he won't do it to us in turn." Mike quipped, following her.
Seryna: [lmao!}
Jack Robinson: "I volunteer you," Laura grinned a little, obviously... probably joking, anyway.
Jack Robinson: Donahue wiped the knife clean and thrust the evidence bags into Laura's hands. "Present for you. Now let's go talk our way out of that... or drug everyone. Whichever."
Jake: "Funny... had the same idea." Mike smiled back at Laura, the levity downplaying the tenseness of a few moments before.
Jack Robinson: Laura carefully slipped the bagged bat bits into the medical bit. "I.. suggest drugs. Drugs are good. Alternatively, you're in a bat killing tournament."
Jake: [I suggest we don't send Laura in to convince them "drugs are good" and offer them round]
Jake: [Actually depending on the local area that might work... and attract more than just the witnesses]
Jack Robinson: Donahue snorted. "Bullshit. We're Federal Agents investigating someone, and we'll Munin the orderlies once we've had a chat. It's not as difficult as it sounds. Let's go." He gestured towards the retirement home. "It's just a bunch of old folks anyway."
Jake: [ "Did you see anything strange tonight?" "No, I'm just here for the free drugs. That lady said they're good!" ]
Seryna: [..did any one see the doctor who episode where the oldpeople turn people into dust]
Jake: [.... Mike is shooting any old people on sight.]
Seryna: []
Seryna: [ ..i foresee Mike being left in the car on future encounters]
Jake: [Just give him a few beers and crack the window open an inch]
Jack Robinson: ((Sam: I foresee this also...))
Jack Robinson: ((Jack: Damnit, this is why we can't have nice things. ))
Jake: ((Mike doesn't shoot everything on sight... just most things.))
Seryna: [lmao! qoute bonus!]
Seryna: [..he shot the car]
Jack Robinson: ((Our beautiful car. D
Seryna: [i want to see this explained ic to the TFV }
Jake: ((The other things he punches unless they're getting drunk with him.))
Seryna: [There was this shadow..on the roof of the car..]
Jake: [Well... I heard a noise and thought it prudent to swiss cheese the roof...]
Jake: [On the plus side, we no longer need that requisition for a sunroof or air conditioning]
Seryna: [Do you want to question the orderlies, or auto growling at them while luara sticks them with needles]
Jake: [Smack them around a bit, they won't remember...]
Jake:
Jack Robinson: ((I don't think we have any important questions, so we can just needle them until they forget anything prudent.))
Jake: ..... [My character's no longer considered good is he?]
Jack Robinson: ((...Damnit Mike, no beating the orderlies!))
Seryna: [no longer nuetal good..]
Jake: *crosses his morality points off his Dalines*
Jake: [Oooh, we could Munin that old geezer, convince him we're his family and bring him in]
Jake: [Join the Dark side...]
Seryna: After a few minutes of distraction and prudent use of Munin, the three once again had time to wonder about the old man who wheeled out to talk to Mr. Shade. Perhaps he'd be more agreeable now that his ally was dead. Pity the bat didn't have that piece of paper.
Seryna: [..I never thought id type a sentence where it was a pity the bat didnt have the paper]
Jake: [The Joys of Hunter]
Seryna: [oh, brb. the ac stopped working. i must have ac]
Jack Robinson: Donahue blew out a breath as the last orderly got the happy, glazed look of a Munin high, which was probably fortunate given how much the stuff hurt going in. He shook his head. "Alright. Bristol, hit the database of this place; patient Aitcheson. Find him. Then we'll ask at the desk all properly and everything."
Jack Robinson: Laura flipped up her laptop and connected to the LAN of the retirement home.
Jack Robinson: ((Laura: http://sheetgen.dalines.net/wiki/WikiDiceRoller?hash=d456e5f1 4 successes on hacking!))
Seryna: Finding the patient was childs play. He was a long time resident of the home and had the same room for many years.
Seryna: [im going to have to slip away. the beau wants to fly a plane
Jack Robinson: Laura checked out his full name and medical records. Better to go in prepared.

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Re: The Parking Lot cometh ATTN: TFV

Post by Seryna on Sat Aug 13, 2011 6:58 pm

Laura discovered that the patient's full name was Donald Aitcheson. He has been a resident of this establishment for nearly three years.

The first quick sheet about him noted his doctor; which nurse's route that he is a part of- and a note about a change of nurses due to the first nurse, Sharice Evans, passing away.
He has a first floor room, near the rear entrance.


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Re: The Parking Lot cometh ATTN: TFV

Post by Seryna on Sat Aug 13, 2011 8:18 pm

The Green Fields Retirement Home is located on the outskirts of the city. It is composed of several single-story buildings each containing four apartments, an administration and reception building which includes some medical facilities and the managers’ offices, a staff building with locker rooms and a canteen for the staff, and a small maintenance building with supplies for cleaning, repairs and tending to the grounds. Green Fields lives up to its brochure and is a clean, calm and pleasant place. The grounds, in particular, are neatly kept. When the weather is pleasant, many of the elderly residents spend the day outside. As you approach the administration building, you notice a number of flowers left by the entrance. The cards left with the flowers indicate they are in the memory of Sharice Evans, a care worker who died a couple of weeks earlier. There is a security guard by the door and a plump, smiling woman sitting at the reception desk.

12:48:58] Tehrat : Laura approached the desk, stepping in front of the men. She smiled pleasantly, hands resting on the reception desk. "We're here to see Donald Aitcheson, please."
[12:49:55] @ Seryna : [Just to appease my curiosity, what gear/weapons are on your person {to all])
[12:51:35] AeonThePhoenix : Colts, etheric rounds, can't recall if I had goggles or if that was sniper scope..
[12:52:48] @ Seryna : "Hello," The receptionist greets Laura pleasantly. "It's nice to see Mr. Aitcheson get so many visitors tonight. He doesn't get too many..." She reaches along her desk, plucking up a small binder that has a long sign in sheet. She sets it in front of Laura. "Please sign in, Miss. " Her eyes move past Laura, glancing to Mike and Donahue.
[12:53:16] @ Seryna : [etheric goggles from our story with Emily Gillen and the red mist ]
[12:53:46] Tehrat : Laura has her PDA and her sidearm.))
[12:55:05] Tehrat : Laura signed the fake name, as per her fake badge ID, with a flourish and hands to pen to whichever of the guys feels like signing next. "Oh? Who else saw him?" she asked with a little smile, in the manner of someone seeking pleasant conversation.
[12:56:14] AeonThePhoenix : Mike took the pen and signed a false name on the form as well, handing it to Donahue.
[12:56:17] Tehrat : Oh! And Laura also has her Munin serum and medical kit. ))
[12:57:20] AeonThePhoenix : [[Free amnesia for everyone!]]
[12:57:37] @ Seryna : The woman glances skyward, as though fishing for a memory. She doesn't come up with a name, but does recall who Donald's visitor was. "That unfortunate woman. All scraggly and hard edges... like she's had a hard life. An unhappy life, I'd imagine." There's a line of disapproval around the woman's mouth.
 Donahue's got his sidearm, his Huginn visor on, and... basically everything he normally carries except his rifle.))

[13:00:50] Tehrat : Donahue signed the name 'Ruby' on the register, and nodded to the woman. He remembered a woman sort of like that. He'd put a bullet through her head quite recently.


The woman accepts the sign in ledger and glances down as though she is visibility inspecting your entries. She seems to find everything in order, setting it down and glancing up at Laura.
“You'll find Mr. Aitcheson in room seven, just down this hall.” She indicates the hall behind her reception desk.

The security guard has moved away from the reception guest, glancing out of the window towards the parking garage. You wonder what these two make of the shots from the Colt without the silencer.

Tehrat : "Thank you," Donahue said crisply, and headed down the hall, knowing full well that his team would be instantly backing him up anyway.

[13:14:13] Tehrat : Laura gives the receptionist a quick nod, before briskly following after Donahue. "Well, that was the quick and simple part," she murmured softly.

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