Dresden Files: Caught in the Undertow

Sanya

Sanya sees this. "Murphy." He says quietly. "We will find a way to stop these monsters from hurting people. We will find a way."

{Say, wouldn't the fact that Vlad is leading a veritable army out on the streets in public heading to Marcone come to the attention of the police, and thus Murphy?}

Most of the army is in the Nevernever. He's got twenty guys with him, and the police haven't bothered to go after them.

{Nevermind then: I thought I read that Vlad was walking around the streets of Chicago in broad daylight, being Freaky}

He is. It's just not a crime to be eight foot tall and vicious looking.

{Point}

[quote="Cracklord"]Lara

He relaxes into her tease, letting the pleasurable sensation linger on his skin...and then accesses a touch of Hellfire, letting the barest hint of it saturate his soul.

The resulting feeling is that of one who, expecting a very fine wine in his glass at dinnertime, instead downed a tumbler of scotch. Unexpected, intense, and your mouth feels as if on fire.

"There are times when honesty is better than deceit," he murmurs. "And I am found in the unique position where she who was my strongest ally is now my fiercest enemy."

Lara
She is more then a little discomforted. It's effects were actually far more harmful then he's intended, as the hellfire was drawn into her reserves, tainting them, and weakening her. But she doesn't let the pain show.
"Oh, I'm not saying we should trust each other." She replies, as though the very idea was ridiculous. "I'm saying if we take care of one another needs, no doubt we'll both be very satisfied. And as for the rest, well then, you'll have to watch me very closely, won't you?" She replies.

Nicodemus

"Yes."

He runs a fingertip along her jawline; a feather-light touch traced from where the neck to just under her chin. Nicodemus leans in, that same soft smile on his lips.

"Very closely."

Marcone's Residence

The Wards are beginning to engage the closer Vlad approaches. Inside the panic room that had been prepared with all essentials, Marcone's top men made last-minute adjustments, briefings, and readied last-minute defenses of both the mundane and mystical.

The man's arrival was a problem, but the Chicago crime lord felt he would be able to weather this storm, however fiercely it would blow. At least, he did until Garde suddenly clutched her head, bent over, and started screaming.

"Can't you feel it?" she gasps out "Can't you?"

Those assembled were merely mortal; Ivy's massive buildup of magic was beyond their senses other than a standard prickling at the back of the neck

Lara

As Nicodemus leans in there is manic pounding on the door. "LARA! Open this door right now or I'm breaking it down. Also you might want to know that VLAD IS MAKING A FREAKING MOVE WHICH YOU WOULD KNOW IF YOU HADN'T FUCKING DITCHED ME!" Oh great her brother seemed to have an excellent sense of timing. Plus he sounded really indignant. It might take a bit of charming to get him to even calm down.

Nicodemus

He draws back when the impetuous black sheep begins haranguing Lara through the door.

"How much," he murmurs. "Would the wereguild be for his demise?"

Lara Raith
She had been certain he'd find a way to get himself off her hands at the party. One way or another. Closing her eyes, she gets to her feet. "Well, that ruins the mood, doesn't it?" She says. She presses a button on her phone, and waits for one of the servants to calm him down. It's not exactly tactful, but if he comes in here, she'll have to kill hm. She doesn't want that. He's one of the few members of her house she can actually trust. And a reliable tool was not to be cast aside so lightly.

Marcone
"No. But I suspect it is our warning to complete preparations in the panic room, whatever it is. Now." He had made all the preparations he could, sent aside all those who would get in his way, and was ready to begin a policy of scorched earth and bleeding strikes against Vlad. In a direct confrontation, Vlad would win. Even if it meant burning the city to the ground, Marcone would not give him one.

Vlad
He topped in the middle of the street, ignoring the cars that swerved around him, and spread his arms wide, then rose upward, levitating as the air seemed to shake with power, although it was a mere whisper to what was being tossed against him. Sorcery swirled around him, blending his clothing, his massive build and his black essence into one, drawing all inward to the shape he now climbed toward. The veering was smooth, eloquent, as jet-black wings unfolded from his shoulders. Flesh and bone surged in size, changed in shape, with a snap of bones and a scream of agony and hate and black triumph.
As he flew higher, eyes fixed on the stars, Vlad became a black dragon, silver-maned and dwarfing even the greatest in bulk. His eyes gleamed silver, the vertical slits of the pupils dilating. His breath gusted in heavy grunts of ash and sparks, the snap of his wings loud amid the deep groan of muscle on bone, and his fangs were sabres. He was no mere animal, he could have rivaled any flying machine of mans, and when he roared it came in waves that shattered glass and made ears bleed.
He took this form rarely. It did not matter if he was seen, for he would leave none alive to report it. He inhaled, and around him, stone ran together, men and women screamed, metal melted to slag and the city began to burn.

Sanya

{Well, I guess that would be something the CPD would sure as Hellfire Notice: random destruction and explosions}

(Well, Draxx dropped out, because he feels he's being shoe-horned into the role of Story-teller, so that's someone elses problem.
By the way, the reason Vlad can get away with this is he only transforms once every half century or so, and never leaves anyone alive after doing it.)

{Aye, but this is a world with Satellites, Helicopters, Spyplanes, CCTV, and Camera phones.

I'm just hoping that Murphy will get a call, and she and Sanya will have a Plot Hook to follow.}

It's sandbox. You tell your own story. If you want a call, you get one.

Sanya

Sanya hears a vague explosion in the distance. And at the same time, Murphy gets a ring on her phone.

She listens, then hangs up with a pale face.

"...Something's happening downtown, near the Gold Coast. It's...like 9/11."

Sanya's breath catches. He and Murphy meet each other's eyes.

And then they take off to help.

However they can.

Can I join as Molly?

Sure. I'll see if I can round up the old gang and resume where we left off.

Vlad
The idea that an image of him could be snapped, instantly transmitted and worldwide in moments was beyond him, he was still getting his mind around gunpowder as far as innovation was concerned. Fortunately the massive discharge of magical energy had killed anything more advanced then a pointy stick in about a mile. The massive creature lowers it's big, fearsome head and roars bathing the street in liquid fire, incinerating anyone it touches and melting cars to slag. Sanya, having heard the commotion and made his way over, sees it down the end of the street and swallows. He really wishes Michael was here.

Sartorius

It's not easy but the servant does manage to calm Sartorius down. It was the sense of dread that had erupted in him moments after pounding on the door that helped. Whoever Lara was in there with that was so important that she sent a servant out to get him had to be very powerful. While waiting to be escorted in he smooths out the ruffles in his tux that he had gained from fighting at the party. It was the only good part about it. That man that had actually given him a challenge was excellent club material. Such a shame he wouldn't be able to get him as one of his fighters. As for Vlad, well he would let Lara worry about that. He didn't fully trust his sister but he still loved her and at least trusted her to watch his back, maybe not his money but definitely his back.

Lara Raith
Lara gets up and makes her way down towards her brother. Moments ago, she'd been En Déshabillé with a man who would be extremely useful to her, not to mention that she found him extremely desirable, and needed to recharge her energies. And now her brother was down stares causing trouble.
It was almost enough to make her regret giving him a foot in the door.
Despite the fact that she was close to exploding with anger, she managed to at least present a calm face to him, though given the dark flashing in her eyes he was perceptive enough to realize he'd pushed her about as far as he could without getting into serious trouble
It was at that moment that all the lights in the building, all the electricity and power, failed at exactly the same moment, and the automatic generator failed to kick in. Something was very wrong indeed.

Sanya

"Saint Trotsky help me." Sanya murmurs to himself quietly in Russian.

He inhales, then exhales, turning to Murphy. He reaches into his duffel, then pulls out a Camera, an old style film Camera dating back to the 1950s, and hopefully immune to any hex activities. He carefully snaps a few pictures of the rampaging Dragon, then passes it to Murphy.

"Murphy...you must get the National Guard on this, with lots of tanks and rockets. There's no way people can ignore this. The...Supernatural is not keeping to own world anymore. "

His face hardens. "So there's no reason for us humans to hold back either."

He reaches into his duffel bag and begins suiting up. AK-47 with banana clips in special holsters, it's strap slung about his neck. Grenades, both flashbang and concussion, strung on a bandolier. Flack Jacket (for whatever good that'll do against a dragon). And of course, Esperacchius the Sword of Hope, loosened in it's sheath.

"And as soon as you get that done..." He turns to her with a gentle smile. "Get my ass out of fire, no?"

He turns and dashes forward, pulling the pin from a concussion grenade, sticking to the sides of the buildings until he can get a good blow in at the Dragon.

Vlad
A highway is not a good place for a being with a massive wingspan. It keeps clipping the tips of it's wings on buildings, and wile stone and steel cracks and melts it's refusing to burn. Vlad's toppled a pair of buildings, creating a veritable mountain of rubble in center of the road, and has perched on it. His army is nowhere to be seen.

Sanya

If he's to fight this dragon, he need to choose a good spot for his fight: Tactically cluttered, plenty of outcropping to duck behind, escape routes.

To start the fight and divert the Dragon from crushing any additional civilians, he decides to sneak his way through the rubble getting closer and closer to the giant Dragon.

Then...he steps out from behind a broken length of wall, one hand one his sword, the other holding the concussion grenade, and speaks out loud in a clear voice.

"Hello, Dragon." He booms in a cheerful voice. "I'd like to convince you to surrender yourself right now!"

The longer he can keep this Dragon distracted, the more time there is for helicopters and tanks and stuff to come in and blast it back to hell. And it's the Knightly thing to do.

Cowl
"Name." He demanded of the dying man, and Mortimer Linquist found his lips quite unwilling spelling it out. His bleeding had stopped, though the hooded man had done nothing to staunch the blood. He could even turn his head to the right despite the ripped muscles. And instead of pain there was a terrible coldness. He didn't know what the necromancer had done, but he wasn't grateful. He had a feeling death would be much better.
"Mmm..." He tried to stop it from coming out. Tried harder then anything. But the will of the necromancer would not be denied. "Mmmort. Mortimer Linquist."
The hooded man nodded, rolling a clear marble across his knucles, as strange red gleam lit it from within. Mort had no idea why he felt as he did, but he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that the hooded man was watching him through the token, rather then his own eyes. "Mortimer." The cowled man said, in his soft, sibilant voice. "A good name for one in our trade. My name is Andre. You may call me master."
He didn't pay any attention to the corpse of Bartholomew Dee at all. It was as though he didn't even care.

Murphy
She did the honorable thing. She gave the photos to Thomas, then pulled out her sidearm and covered Sanya. Sure, she could pull rank at make the calls faster then Thomas, but no way was she letting the knight take on a dragon without someone covering his back.

Sartorius

He clicks his tongue as the power goes out and he says, "That's not good." However he did get a good look at his sisters eyes before the power went out. So to save his skin, cause while he had power and resources Lara had power as well and even more resources, he started of speaking politely and even offered and apology.

"Lara, I am sorry to have interrupted your important business but I thought it prudent to inform you of the situation with Vlad. He said that he was he was going to eliminate the final challenge to the supremacy of the old night. He then took his minions and left. As I'm sure I don't need to tell you more power for Vlad equals more trouble for us. The Court may be moving on to greener pastures but that won't happen if Vlad gets enough power to wipe us out first. No offense, but I think that you didn't leave the most favorable impression on him at that party of his."

He manages to say all of this in the calm political tone that his family is known for. Mostly out of fear of that presence that he felt earlier. He knew he shouldn't as Lara could hold this over his head somehow but the needs surpassed the wants right now. Even if it did make him sick to the stomach that he was acting just like the rest of his family now.