Crack is Whack Part II (IC)

[trollthumper]

Nick took a look over towards the Rastafarian with the skull on his chest. "If I'm not mistaken," he whispered, "that guy's our ward constructor. Either that, or he got really lost on his way to a Cypress Hill-Insane Clown Posse double bill." He turned his eye towards the paraphernalia surrounding the man. "Odds are he's a houngan, or practitioner of one of the other Yoruba-derived faiths. Santeria, Obeah..."

[Fox]

Nick may as well have been speaking Martian for all that the words made sense to her; she caught 'houngan', and then a lot of what sounded like magic. always annoying - swear they make up names just to sound important "Right," she whispered back. "Has to be conscious to maintain the wards, or can we bring them down by knocking him out?"

Her eyes - and visor - scanned the room, and she didn't much like what she was seeing. "Don't like the look of the guards. Trained, professional. Redhead as well, possibly. Woman...mmh. Can't discount her either. Doesn't look like a threat, but means little in this city."

[trollthumper]

"Sadly, looks like the working's woven into the walls," Nick whispered. "Fortunately, I'm still on this mortal coil, so it doesn't have the effect on me it'd have on a ghost or a vampire. But it will be muting my mojo... unless I can take it apart. But that'd require a bit of improvisation... and a minute to myself. And if it doesn't work, Sleepyhead over there might detect that someone's trying to assault his ward."

[Supercape]

"Well, he seems to have more protection than your average drug dealer" mused Slick, surveying the scene, and making sure she kept her voice as low as possible.

"We have surprise on our side, but I wonder if we should try words first? not that these guys look to interested in talking, but you never know. Maybe a distraction, get some of these guys out - the gunslingers as well as the users".

She looked to Dragonfly "any calculations on our attack, miss brains?" she asked.

[Fox]

Dragonfly frowned, silently tapping a finger on her leg as she backed up a bit to stay out of the way. "....not on this short of notice," she quietly replied. "Could try to come up with something, possibly while he works on bringing down the wards, but words aren't likely to work if he fails and the...houngan...notices. Suppose I'd suggest a plan, then words while he works on wards, then a fight if he fails or they attack. No surprise there, though. Large advantage to give up...could be worth it."

She shrugged, closing her eyes and remembering the room. "Can't even guarantee I can find us an advantage. Not much to work with. But could give it my best."

[trollthumper]

"I've got a possible idea," Nick whispered. He turned to Slick. "You can adopt different faces. How good are you at a confidence game? Knuckles may have supernatural contractors working for him, but he seems to be a 'mere mortal.' Without his backup, someone could take him out. You adopt the persona of a backer, someone with ties in Atlantic City, Baltimore, anywhere in the area. You bring in Dragonfly as your 'bodyguard,' tell Knuckles you're willing to create a consortium. While you keep him busy, I'll work on the wards."

[Supercape]

"Sounds good to me" nodded Slick agreement, as the oil started streaking down his face. In a few seconds, a young hipster face stared back at Nick, screaming "cocaine addicted high flyer" with dilated pupils and arrogantly flared nostrils.

He took a few calming breaths, and nodded at Dragonfly "so, bodyguard, you ready to play the part?"

[Fox]

Dragonfly thought back to the guards - body- or not - that she'd seen in the past, and nodded. "Not very intimidating. But very well-armed. Will do what I can...and leave the talking to you. Not a very good liar. It's a good plan."

Just in case, she ran a last-minute systems check and made sure her defenses were up and at full power. Her force field shifted a little, twitching as she mentally poked it for holes until she was satisfied it had none. "Ready when you are."

[Supercape]

"Good evening, Mr. O'Hagan" said Slick, striding into the Crack den as bold as brass. The fumes here were quite intoxicating.

Knuckles nearly jumped out of his skin, pulling his Glock on Slick, as his cronies did the same. The woman to his side pulled a revolver from some unseen part of her clothing (the little she wore) and snarled. Clearly she was as street-hardened as the rest of the crew.

"Stop right there! Or I'll bust your ass!" shouted Knuckles over the loud dub music. "Who on God's Earth are you, walking in here lioke you owns the place?"

Slick paused for a moment, giving what he hoped was a winning smile. "You can call me Mr.... Caine. And the my... protection... Ms. Fly. High tech stuff those" he continued, pointing at her gauntlets "before you think I didn't come here without a shooter. Not that I came here to shoot"

"Well what in blazes did you come here for?" asked Knuckles, angry but interested.

"Perhaps you would care to do some... business?" asked Slick with a crooked smile.

Knuckles paused, scrutinising Slick. "I may be" he replied. "... to the right partner..."

[trollthumper]

While Slick and Dragonfly put on the con, Nick was lurking behind the corner, reaching out for the ward. It felt solid, like the walls of a crypt carved in holy writ -- meant to protect the body interred within while keeping spiritual predators out. Hell of a way for him to think of his old customers, he thought. He worked his will into a sledgehammer, striking out at the carved walls...

...only for it to bounce off as if the walls were made of rubber. Ah. I see. There'd been a good deal more work put into the ward -- it could be flexible or rigid to adapt its needs. Gonna require something unconventional... He re-envisioned his strike against the ward; in his mind, days and nights passed in seconds, and as the eons took the crypt, the stone wore away under the wind and the rain, causing cracks to form in the crypt. He just hoped the others could keep up the facade long enough to complete the working.

[Fox]

Dragonfly was smart enough to say nothing - she was a bad liar and she knew it. Instead she pretended to be exactly what she was: a heavily-armed, high-tech threat. As soon as everyone had reached for their guns she'd put up her force field and charged both gauntlets, letting distortions 'bleed' out of them and twist the air...just so they knew she wasn't wearing useless toys. When the weapons went away so did her readied charge, though her protections stayed up as a gentle reminder.

For the umpteenth time she was glad she'd designed her visor the way she had - it kept the upper part of her face almost completely obscured, just enough detail coming through to know she was watching, but not enough to know who, or where. As long as she kept her head still, she could scan the room with impunity, maintaining a watchful eye on every threat in her field of vision.

[Supercape]

"Well Mr. O'Hagan. Word on the street is you have some nice little drug hitting the town. More pop than the normal muck that floats around, if you catch my drift. And I have some very select clientele that might be interested, if you see what I mean. "

"I do" muttered Knuckles, fingering his handgun "and its a good earner, for sure. But I don'd deal with peoples I don't know. Keeps my head down, small time stuff. Stick your head up to high, it only gets shot down. "

He gave a toothy grin "not saying I don't to shooting good myself, to be sure!"

"Of course" replied Slick holding up his hands. "Its just, well, we could perhaps come to some agreement, maybe buy some from your supplier instead?"

Knuckles looked Slick straight in the eye and brought out his phone. He started making a call, and gave the two a beady look. "Maybe... although I doubt it..."

[trollthumper]

Meanwhile, Nick was continuing to hack away at the ward in his mind. Come on, you two, he thought, just a few more seconds of BS... In his mind, the crypt was eroded to a near ruin; its iron door had rusted, its walls were gouged, and the dust of ages was settling all around it. He could hear a howl growing in his head, and he didn't know whether it was the wind of his vision or the demanding moans of the dead outside.

Oh, I'm sure they're gonna be reaaaaaaal happy to see you, Knuckles...

[Fox]

Inwardly, Dragonfly frowned - no Nick meant he was still working his magic, and a cell phone could spell all kinds of trouble if he was calling backup or a supplier; if nothing else, maybe she could buy some time.... Lights danced behind her eyes and the cell phone suddenly lost reception, dropping whatever call Knuckles was trying to make. my cell phone now - security on these things is awful - designers should be ashamed

[Supercape]

GM

"Godammit, reception gone, so it has!" yelled Kunckles glaring at the phone, before throwing it away hard. He wasn't so angry he didn't make sure it hit something soft however.

"Seems my supplier is incommunicado today, so he is!" he smirked at Slick and Dragonfly. "And i'm not so sure about you two's. And I'm not a man who likes taking risks..."

He fingered his Glock and gave them a menacing look. "On the other hands, spilling blood is unwanted attention. The kindsa attention I donts need. Unless there's profits in it, of course. So I'm in a bits of a dilema, so I am..."

[trollthumper]

Nick felt the ward finally give way under his effort. He decided now was the best time to test it out. He cleared his throat, and felt something cold and thick coat the cords. Ectoplasm. The voice was there, and apparently at full strength. He peered around the corner, and saw O'Hagan fingering his Glock. Now or never...

He opened his mouth, and felt all the fury, longing, and desire of the ghosts outside -- ghosts formerly barred from the homestead -- flow through his voice. He rounded the corner, letting the unnatural cacophony stream out over the others.

"Just one hit? Come on, just one more... damn you, man, damn you for my brother, for my sister... junk, all junk, all junk, makes me burn..."

[Supercape]

The effect was not entirely visible, but it sent shivers down Knuckles spine and that of his cronies. Pandemonium born from blind terror swept across the musty, shabby room.

Screams, shouting and pleas for mercy rang out, as everyone but Knuckles and his chief goon made a scrabble for the exit.

Knuckles, however, steeled himself and had more spine. "Pfah!" he shouted in defiance "'till take more than the spooks to break O'Hagan!" and with that he puffed up his chest, and put an arm across his second hand man, the chief goon, who was still debating whether to make a run for it.

"Hold still!" he snapped "and let them taste lead!"

He bent his knees into a crouching position, and charged at Slick and Dragonfly.

[trollthumper]

Nick switched tactics. Dropping the Wail, he drew upon the memories of death and the reach of the dead outside. But it appeared that the dead outside were still getting used to the idea of rousing from their languor; a few hands rose from the planks, loosely grasping at their targets. Dang, he thought to himself. Guess the Wail wasn't as much of a wake-up call as I'd hoped...

[Supercape]

The ghostly hands were slow but strong, and the terrified throng were in no shape to think about avoiding the spectral grasp of the undead. In fact, it just amplified the fear that could practically be smelled by this point.

Only the terrified floozy of Knuckles managed to avoid the grip, probably by luck rather than judgement, along with Knuckles himself, who spat at the limbs and danced over them with the grace of a dancer.

[Fox]

Dragonfly stood straight in the chaos, unmoving as the fight broke out all around her. Well, mostly broke out, anyway - Nick seemed awfully effective. She spared a glance at the hands - extremely creepy - but otherwise didn't pause in bringing a gauntlet up to bear on Knuckles, releasing a twisted spacial distortion at the man.

[Supercape]

The dancing, ginger haired drug dealer ducked under the distortion, only raising his eyebrow at the young heroine's technological powers. "Nice guns you have their Missy, think I'll take em! and take em I will!"

He bobbed and weaved a few steps through the spectral hands and writhing bodies, and suddenly appeared before Dragonfly with a menacing glare. This was only to distract her from his rapidly rising right fist, adorned with an iron knuckleduster, that crashed into the young woman without mercy.

"Me Mam told me never to hit girls" he laughed.

"But me Dad told me never to listen to me Mam!"

[Supercape]

Slick quickly realised that Knuckles was a skilled and dangerous street fighter, who looked like he had spent many hours training in a boxing ring. Whilst the goons here were clearly a cut above the normal street trash, Knuckles was a cut above them.

His observation was proved correct as Knuckles avoided, without difficulty, Slick's telegraphed one-two punch combination with an ease that bordered on contempt.

His laughter was drowned out by a burst of automatic fire from the goon who was still shaken, but together enough to fire his weapon. Not together enough to aim properly however, and bullets rung all over the room, smashing objects and chipping away at the walls, doors, and furniture. It was fortunate that Nick's necromantic spells had emptied the room just a few moments ago.

[trollthumper]

"Well, Knuckles," Nick said, dancing amongst the carnage, "with discipline like that, it's no surprise your old friends wanted to come to visit. I wouldn't be surprised if your men's 'keen sharpshooting' put half of them down there in the first place." He called the ectoplasm back from the room, forming a familiar set of cruel talons. "You're a boxer, right? Guessing you've got experience with weighted gloves." Nick drove the fist right under Knuckles's chin, striking upwards hard and fast.

[Supercape]

GM

"Wha..." was Kunckles only response. The ectopasmic fist caught him squarely on the jaw. A normal uppercut he would have dodged, and a normal uppercut he would have probably shrugged off, but the mystic force behind Nick's weird talons was more than any boxer was trained to counter, and his eyes rolled back.

He slumped to his Knees, and then fell face forward, unconscious.

[Fox]

Though a little disappointed that she hadn't managed to take out Knuckles herself (not guns - nobody will take them from me), Dragonfly didn't miss a beat, rotating her outstretched arm to point at the gun-wielding goon and, without so much as turning more than her head to look at him, unleashing a tight, twisted shockwave straight at his chest. "Sit. Down."