Nate snerks and says with a grin, "The next time you complain about how much C4 I'm using, I'll be sure to remind you I'm 'mostly harmless'."
He gives the new girl a wink as he takes a swig of his beer. "Yeah Faith, you're gonna love Gavril. He's 'mostly harmless' too."
"Well, we'd be hiring you to investigate potential supernatural phenomena and dealing with them. But you'd be listed as a consultant. We wouldn't technically be your employer and therefore we wouldn't technically be responsible for any havoc you caused, like say, for instance, with an unnecessarily large amount of explosives."
Faith nods and notices Nate's distracted behavior and mumbles so he can hear, "Explosives are good."
"I'm aware of Michael's abilities, Faith. He's no different than any other person we recruit. Mostly harmless. If I thought otherwise I wouldn't have sent him an envelope."
Faith glances at Michael, still looking skeptical, but then gives a shrug.
John nods at Faith and Michael without offering a hand. "I'm John. I have some special abilities of my own, but they don't have fancy titles. I can stun a person from a distance, make myself and others harder to be hit by knives and bullets, and as a last resort heal wounds - without 'no stinkin' EMT card' (the last said with a Mexican accent), but I don't know if that would help you with a seizure (looking at Michael). I've also gotten to be a pretty fair shot over the last few months."
"Hmmph," Faith murmers. "I've read about White Witches claiming to do beneficial magic. Never encountered someone who can do that kind of thing. I look forward to seeing how you do it and how it can help. Healing wounds in the thick of battle could be a real life saver." She sounds a little as if she's talking more to herself, trying to talk herself into joining the group.
"Smirk if you want at fancy titles, but when I'm cutting heads off zombies right and left with my katana while you're trying to make head shots with your gun, you might appreciate the title I've earned through years of hard training and practice a little more. And the EMT ID gets me through more security checkpoints than any other ploy. Local LEOs and Rent-a-cops rarely have the stones to stop an EMT, even if they've gotten no reports of injuries."
The gentle hubbub of the diner is shattered by a loud sound from outside as a probably illegal Harley Davidson, pulls up and parks semi-legally in front of the joint. The man astride it pulls the small eggshell helmet from his head, and takes a pony tail band from his long dark curly hair, and slips it around his wrist, shaking out his long hair as he does so. He takes a cigarette from his mouth, and throws it on the ground, stepping on it to make sure it's out, then unzips his worn leather jacket, and opens the door to the joint.
Of average size and build, he walks with a swagger that usually only belongs to cocky cops, and gangsters. He is wearing some strange blue eyeglasses as he enters the room, and glances around the entire establishment, before removing the glasses, pocketing them and headed towards the table where his friends... and a couple of strangers are chatting. He is wearing a worn WWII bombers jacket, driving gloves with the ends of the fingers cut out, faded Levis, biker boots, and a Sturgis t-shirt. As gets closer he whips out a worn ball cap (Phillies) and dons it pulling his hair through the back of the hat.
Notice Total of 13
XD
XD2
WD
"What's up my homies"?, Arlo says increasing the speed of his approach, and holding out his arms for a hug from someone. A wide smile splits his face as he approaches the gang, and attempts to hug everyone. He then pulls a chair out turning it backwards before straddling it and sitting down.
"Sorry I'm late". "I stayed up watching the X-files marathon on Sci-Fy channel last night and overslept".
He then notices the others at the table "So whose the new blood"? "I'm Arlo". he says rising again, and holding out his hand to shake.
Faith leans forward and shakes his hand, making her grip as firm as his (or firmer). "Faith Sierra. I haven't said yes, yet; but so far, I like what I see."
After noticing his t-shirt, she adds, "Sturgis, eh? I was there as a kid, 1990--50th anniversary, I think. My parents drove me there as a summer vacation thing. Don't remember much except wanting to ride. I've done a bit of bike racing, but I mostly race 4 wheels now. Keep meaning to get back to Sturgis again, but something's always happening middle of summer lately. What do you ride?"
Then she glances at his cap. "Condolences," she says with mock somberness, then points at her SF Giants cap, with a smug grin.
I am Michael. I am guessing that you don't believe in subtlety. Just remember that I am not some pushover. Oh, and if Faust here starts barking then I am going to have a seizure. I pat the small white dog next to me.
To Faith>
Wow!" "Quite a grip there.
"Desiree is a Heritage Softail somewhere beneath all the aftermarket stuff, and chrome". "I spend most of my spare change keeping her in bling".
"Heh". "Not a big baseball fan, but San Fran is only temporary anyway". "Next big quake it'll fall off into the Pacific anyway".
To Michael>
"Eh". "Subtlety has it's place... but not among friends". Arlo says sweeping his arms to take in the group. "And you'll find I'm not one to judge a person based upon their size".
"Why don't you just get rid of the dog is his barking causes you seizures". "I've got a new puppy myself from our last mission, though he's already about twice the size of that one". He then reaches over to pat the dog, looking to Michael for permission first.
Arlo notices that a few of the patrons size him up quickly with that look he has associated with other hunters. But they dismiss him as harmless enough when he steps past the doors. A double take reveals why when he sees some glowing protective runes etched into the doorframe.
***
"Actually, the adorable dog is his familiar. They got a supernatural connection. So if he starts barking like mad it means Michael is about to suffer a seizure. He takes medication, but the source is magical as well as physiological, so they don't always work."
-Posted with Wayfinder
= 7 = Success
Apparently noticing the runes for the first time, John asks Maggie, "what *is* this place? And how did those runes get there?"
"I'm kind of surprised you picked that up. Most think the runes are just decorative. The owner, Sally, she used to work for PATRIOT. She retired when a demon cut off her leg with a hacksaw. She still got the bastard though. Tough old broad," Maggie said affectionately.
"She opened this diner and it's become an unofficial PATRIOT hang out. Although some of the unaffiliated hunters come in, too. The runes are protection from various evil things out there. I heard a vampire tried coming in once and just basically exploded."
-Posted with Wayfinder
To Maggie : "Can I learn how to do runes?"
"Well, it's encouraging that you know more about these esoteric things than I do. I have relatives who tell stories about, like, brujos and kami and nature spirits and all but it 's obvious I need to learn more. Maybe we can form like a study group?"
@Michael: "What kind of seizures? Grand mal with the falling down and shaking and all or some kind of partial, like just going blank for ten seconds? And what's the diagnosis? Or is it caused by your use of ..., like, magic?"
@Maggie: "So I, like, get the plausible deniability and all, but what if we end up being questioned by Homeland Frickin' Security cause we got caught in, like, Mt. Rushmore with C4," here she glances at Nate, "and Junior here is smeared with blood, after we offed some crazy shaman set to unleash some hoard of ghost warriors to cleanse the Black Hills, and they, like, have us all isolated on account of they think we're terrorists and they can do that courtesy of the frickin' Patriot Act, ..." Faith pauses for breath. "Can we count on someone official savin' our Tofurky?"
Nate grumbles something unintelligible but carrying a decidedly obscene tone when Faith mentions the DHS. When she finishes her question he comments, "They don't even need to catch us bloodied and carrying C4. They can put anyone away any time, just because they want to. It's gotten even worse since the Patriot Act. Now they don't even have to try to justify their actions, just mumble something about 'terrorism' and they're off the hook."
He takes another slug of his drink. "The whole damnaHble government's an insidious plot. Welcome to the New World Order."
Faith gives Nate a wary look. "Easy Cochise," she says. "I don't mind that their watching our backs when terrorists are on the loose. I just want to know that there's someone who has our backs," she glances at the other hunters, "should we be caught by other agencies--DHS, FBI, DEA, whatever. I know what it's like to be caught trying to explain that the body that has my slugs in it and that looks like a teenage boy was really an alien shapeshifter with fangs and claws trying to rip my face off. If that's what we're going to be investigating, is there someone with legal clout to come in and, like, get us out of trouble if it comes to that?"
Nate ducks his head in Maggie's direction. "There's your back-watcher right there. From what I've seen in my short time with PATRIOT, they don't come any better."
He grins and winks at Maggie as he takes another swig. "Especially if you're expecting."
Nate ducks his head in Maggie's direction. "There's your back-watcher right there. From what I've seen in my short time with PATRIOT, they don't come any better."
He grins and winks at Maggie as he takes another swig. "Especially if you're expecting."
Faith's eyes widen and take on a slightly disturbed wobble. "Did somebody get impregnated on the job? What are we talkin', like, Rosemary's Baby or Alien or what?"
"Nah, just someone in the office. She had a beautiful, bouncing baby girl. Any signs of the Apocalypse were purely coincidental."
-Posted with Wayfinder
As Maggie explains about the baby, the group--as well as everyone else in the diner--hears a noise that almost reckons with Arlo's bike earlier on, although it's less impressive: a pair of engine backfires. The noise draws eyes to see a beat-up old DeLorean pull up into the parking lot--a DeLorean that . If there was any doubt as to the driver, it's quickly wiped away as you see the car pull into a spot, then pull out, pull in again, and repeat the process a few more times until it's... well, it's still not really perfectly parked, but it's close enough.
A few seconds later, a tall, broad man enters the diner, his hair longer and grayer than when the group first met him months ago. He's wearing simple sneakers, a pair of worn-looking jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, and an old military-style jacket. When he first steps into the restaurant, he looks around with steel-blue eyes, but once he sees the group he smiles and quickly walks over.
"Salutare!" he says with a grin. "Is good to see you again. These new friends?" Gavril nods to Michael and Faith. "Nice to meet you, friends. And sorry for I am late." Gavril takes a seat and gives a sheepish grin to the others. "Car trouble."
Everyone except Faith and Michael understand that statement--even with the payments from PATRIOT, the Romanian seems devoted to keeping his car running, and doing all the mechanical work himself.
Faith gave the newcomer a once-over, impressed with his size and build. She resisted the urge to talk about his DeLorean, a legendary car she had never had the opportunity to drive. But she repressed her questions and glanced at the rest of the table. "This it?" She made a face that said, Not too shabby, and added, "Muscle, mayhem," glancing at Nate and Arlo, "and magic!" finishing her sweep of the table with nods to John and Michael.
"Impressive. I'm in if you'll have me." She glanced at Maggie and then at Michael as if to say, your turn.
Nate jerks a thumb at Gavril. "You really should include Gavril in the 'mayhem' category too," he says with a grin.
The Romanian laughs and shakes his head. "Just because I punch things, make explode," he mutters, then taps just below his eyepatch. "And can't shoot good. Do you believe I finally purchase shotgun? Maybe is mayhem." He chuckles.
Arlo is busy at the counter ordering Nacho's with extra cheese, extra hot wings, and a picture of beer, but nods back towards the group. As he gets ready to return to the table with his picture of beer... and one mug, he spots the pickled pigs feet on the counter, but is able to resist the temptation... for now.
Maggie says hello to the giant Gavril with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. She then tells everyone to settle in and order. And once that was out of the way she spoke.
"I'm glad to hear you guys are amenable to working together because as you've probably guessed, I have a new case for you."
She sighed.
"There was a hunter in Peoria. We tried to recruit him, but he preferred to work alone. I even offered him a slot on this team, but he still said no. Still we kept tabs on him. Nothing invasive, we just made a point to check in with him to make sure he wasn't in over his head."
Maggie looked sad suddenly. "I liked him. He was funny."
She cleared her throat and continued.
"His body was found floating in a lake. Autopsy report came back that he was ripped to pieces with something sharp. And he was probably totured."
She sighed.
"We got an all hands on deck situation in Montana. Otherwise this would be top priority. One of us or not. Something takes out a Hunter, we make it a point to make sure the monster that did it dies in as painful a fashion as we can manage."
-Posted with Wayfinder
<With a smirk> "So, you're saying you're payin' for our air fare?"
"It's about a 12 hour drive from here to Illinois, if you want to keep your stuff with you. But give the word and I can make a phone call and have you on a private jet that can get you there in a couple hours," Maggie says completely serious.
"Like I said, he wasn't PATRIOT. But he was one of us."
Nate shifts his gaze from the beer mug to give John a brief dirty look. "Any idea what got him?" he says, pausing to take a sip. "And what was his name, maybe I knew him. Ran with more than a few graboid wranglers in my day."
"His name was Vincent Carter. He stuck to the Great Lakes region mostly. And, no. We don't have anything definitive. Just what we could get off the autopsy. And unfortunately 'ripped to shreds' doesn't really narrow down the list of suspects in this line of work. He wasn't some careless rookie though. So it had to be something serious."
Vincent Carter was a bit of a local legend in the area. A popular story has him taking out a 20-foot lake monster with nothing but a fishing boat and a chainsaw.
"I can tell you it probably wasn't anything demonic. I made it a point to check for signs. And so far bubkis. No cold spots, ritual suicides, cattle mutilation, mass hallucinations - Nada."
Gavril returns Maggie's hug and listens with a serious expression on his face. He frowns at the description of the death, and the lines on his face grow deeper at John's typical callousness.
"Carter?" The Romanian raises his eyebrows and his good eye blinks. "He was good man. Good hunter. For something kill him... We deal with real monster." Gavril nods and taps the table. "We get who or what did this, Maggie. No worries."
Nate shakes his head. "Never worked with him, never even heard of him. If he was a loner like you say, he probably didn't care about recognition. But word still gets around," he says, looking at Gavril.
"Yeah, we'll nail the son-of-an-it that did him in."
Faith orders a roast beef sandwich with Swiss cheese, a side of fries, and an ice tea.
Result = 6+1= 7, success
"I think the Weather Channel made some mention of him and his chainsaw on one of their reality shows."
Regarding transportation, she says, "I'd prefer to drive there, in which case, it'll be more like a ten hour drive. Just be aware that if anyone rides with me, if you call 'shotgun', you'll have to fire the shotgun if we get into a chase."
Regarding the case, "What law enforcement group has the case? Has anything been reported in the media?"
"Just be aware that if anyone rides with me, if you call 'shotgun', you'll have to fire the shotgun if we get into a chase."
A grin slowly spreads across Nate's face, and he points at Faith pointedly. "I can tell I'm gonna like you, kid. When I get the the M134 Minigun turret mounted in Bertha, you're manning it."
His grin gets wider and his eyes glaze over as he contemplates the potential... and starts sounding unnervingly like Tim Taylor. "Six electrically driven rotating barrels spewing hot metal death at the rate of a hundred rounds per second." His hands start twitching in an odd fashion, as if he were imagining firing the weapon.
He refocuses his gaze on Faith, and there's a twinkle in his eye. "Gotta love it."
"On second thought, maybe you'll drive," he adds as he pulls a prescription bottle from his pocket to pop a pill.
"So, are we going by car or by air? If it's a private jet, we should be able to take *all* our 'gear' with us without having to worry about security, right? Maggie, you willin' to throw in a decent all-terrain rental or two once we get there? If so, I'm all for going in comfort!...I mean, getting there quicker to better catch the thing that did this."
He orders a huge meal and devours it relatively quickly. If anyone gives him a look or a comment, all he says around a mouthful of food is "Hey, once you've been homeless for a while, you eat whatever you can whenever you can." But he won't say more than that about that.
Maggie shudders at the thought of the paperwork involved with Nate and Faith tearing up the country. "Just be sure we still have a Chicago when you're done. I like the pizza."
"I can get you guys rentals. No problem." She then turns to Faith and says, "Right now, it's just the local LEOs. But I wouldn't be shocked if the FBI stepped in."
"On second thought, maybe you'll drive," he adds as he pulls a prescription bottle from his pocket to pop a pill.
"If it's got wheels and a motor, I can drive it better than anyone," Faith says confidently. "I'm not all that fond of firearms, actually," she adds. "Katana and Wakizashi are my preferred weapons. Less collateral damage and quieter. Better intimidation factor also."
He orders a huge meal and devours it relatively quickly. If anyone gives him a look or a comment, all he says around a mouthful of food is "Hey, once you've been homeless for a while, you eat whatever you can whenever you can." But he won't say more than that about that.
For her part, Faith eats with gusto, adding a chocolate milk shake for afters. She glances at Maggie and says, "One of the perks of working out. French fries and milk shakes!"
"I can get you guys rentals. No problem." She then turns to Faith and says, "Right now, it's just the local LEOs. But I wouldn't be shocked if the FBI stepped in."
"Do they know about us? What we do? I assume not. It would be great if we could get a look at that body. I might be able to talk my way in. Depends on who's in charge. If not, anyone good at B&E?"
"Katana and Wakizashi are my preferred weapons. Less collateral damage and quieter. Better intimidation factor also."
Nate chuckles as he takes another swig of beer. "Yeah, I'm sure staring down the barrels of a minigun pales in comparison to having a Japanese sword waved in your face," he says with good-natured sarcasm. "But you know what? Play to your strengths; that's one reason this team's been so successful. Whatever works for you. Seriously."
"Da," Gavril nods, raising the coffee he ordered to drink after finishing his meal. "Most people think is good idea to have gun. I meet one guy, he live two floors down from me, we hear about zombies in graveyard just out of town. We go check it out, he has rifle, he ask me, 'Gavril,' he say, 'why you no bring gun? I tell him, I say, 'You use gun, is loud, and you shoot zombie, shoot in head maybe, it die, but head is small target. I punch in chest, good hard cross?" He makes a small, fake punching motion, nearly sloshing the coffee out of his mug. "Boom. Chest explode. No more zombie."
He sips the drink and shrugs, then taps his eyepatch. "Also, uh, with one eye, is, eh, hard to aim gun. Easier to punch."
Maggie look chagrined.
"The Bureau's relationship with PATRIOT might best be described as 'grudging'. We certainly don't have any authority over them - only influence. Powerful influence, don't get me wrong. Nothing like getting an angry phone call from the Secretary of Homeland Security at 3AM to put the fear of God into you. But it's better all around if we avoid that."
"And cops of any stripe are territorial by nature. They really don't appreciate being told they can't handle something. So try not to advertise your affiliation if you can."
"That being said, if you need to bust some heads to save lives, do it. It's my job to handle the backlash."
***
Once the meal wraps up, Maggie asks for the check. She then looks to you and asks, "You guys driving? Or am I chartering a Jet?"
"As long as I can transfer my gear from the car to the plane, I'm okay. I'll just want a secure place to park my 'Bird for the duration. Other than that, I'm good to go."
Micheal finally looks up. I am sorry, but I HAD to finish a book. What did I miss?
Muttering under his breath (make a Notice roll at home, or just go ahead and read it) :
Speaking up to Maggie : "Likewise on the car-to-plane transfer, tho I suppose I could just fill a duffel bag - just remember neither it nor I would get thru a metal check. I can leave anytime, just need to stop at my place on the way, could probably be at the airport in 90 minutes if needed. Or whenever."
"Long as there's no issue with my gear flying, I'm fine either way."
"As much as I love along ride... I prefer it without a deadline or destination". "I'm all about the flying".
Wait, If we are talking road trip then I will need a ride at least. There is no way that the agency will take me out of town with out.
"Relax," Gavril says, clapping Micheal on the shoulder with a heavy hand. "Maggie take care of us. She get us car, no problem. Maybe not as nice as our cars, but nice. Good enough to drive, eh?"
"Just make sure the car has lots of horsepower. And wifi for the flight would be aces, give us some time to research. I assume you've got a file with all the info you've got on this guy--known associates, relatives, monsters he's fought in the past?"
Maggie finishes paying off the bill and then retrieves a pair of manila envelopes from her travel bag. She hands one to Michael and then Faith.
"There are Smart Phones inside. I'll email Carter's dossier to all of you in a few minutes. Your new health insurance cards are in there as well."
She stands up and smiles at all of you sitting in the booth. "Say cheese," she says as she snaps a picture with her phone. She doesn't really give you time to smile, so it ends up with all of you looking at the camera befuddled.
"Perfect. Give me an hour, and I'll have your plane. Expect a text with GPS coordinates. The weapons won't be an issue."
"Be careful out there, guys."
Maggie walks out while making a phone call.
"Susan. I'm going to need a jet. Something posh and discreet."