A Pact Of Good

Participants:

John-Wilco, Leonard, Rain

john-wilco_icon.jpg rain_icon.jpg Leonard_icon.jpg

Scene Title A Pact Of Good
Synopsis Three Scions are ambushed by a Cthuloid like mass.

Central Park

Description of location, if any.


It's late evening in the city. People are still in battery park, just playing a few games of frisbee, finishing up some picnic dinners and who knows what else. There are a few young lovers making out softly under the trees and a few joggers coming out to get ready for an evening run. For the most part it's a pleasant evening. The weather is nice, it's not too humid and it's not too dry either. Everything seems…perfect.

Whistling a little tune, Rain is walking back from work. Seems she took the lunch and day shift today. She has a bag of groceries in hand, pen tucked over her right ear. Looks like someone has plans for a tasty dessert. She wanders down along one of the paths, passing the picnicers and others. She has to pause though, to consider it. Just another day in the vast cycle of life, death, rebirth or moving on. "Phew." She shifts the bag and glances around. Overall, the woman seems alert, if thoughtful.

Chewing on a thick meaty Hero sub John Wilco shakes his large foot to the sound of the Rastafarian music. He pulls back his suit sleeve to reveal his Rolex watch, "Humph. If only there was more time in the hour. Chronos willing." He takes another large bite out of his food and then wraps the rest up in a paper back, slipping it into the folded arms of a sleeping hobo.

Leonard is taking his show on the road today. He's likely just finished harassing some makeshift crowd, has decided to take perch and rest before the next effort. He's chosen a bench, planted himself there and slouched over to examine stack of cards in hands. They weave back and forth, pale eyes sweeping across the park while fingers work.

Rain's pause doesn't last long. Forever do the desert sands shift, forever must wander. Although it's apparent she's generally used to meandering slooooooowly. Ponderously, much like molasses. She passes John Wilco after a moment, just in time to witness his act of generosity. Her green eyes consider the man a moment, from a few feet away. She rustles a little, shifting her bag of groceries. But for the most part, she's quiet, peering. "Um. That's very kind of you," A soft spoken statement at last.

Pulling on his red power tie with a whimsical look on his Italian face John Wilco seems startled when someone, in New York, talks to him. "What? Oh yeah, well. You know in New Orleans they have a sandwich made just for the poor people? Call 'em Po-boys. After the Irish immigrant workers would send their boys to pay ten cents for bread and roast together." John Wilco cocks his head, "Cost about eight dollars now. More than a hamburger."

Leonard's fingers slow eventually, binding together over the deck pressed between palms. Other figures are noted, jotted down in mental notebook. Interesting people doing interesting things. John is on the list, Rain presumably, time spent on both before the man begins to rise. Hands dust at clothing, make more effort than necessary at beating out imaginary stains.

Rain is remarkably able to simply stand still and watch. Clearly, she has extra talent at imitating lawn statues that look out at the world. "Mmhm. We learned about those early on in classes," She tugs at the sleeve of her jacket. "Course, that depends. A lot of people pile on sauces and cheese and other things," She notes with a shrug and a smile. "Currency has changed. It's the sands of time I suppose," She looks over her shoulder. "But anyway… I'm sorry, if I startled you." She goes quiet after that, glance passing over Leonard briefly. Then back to John.

Voiceless town, tapping feet
I clench my fist in pockets tight
far in mist a tower awaits
like a merciless tomb, devouring moonlight…

And those are the cryptic words of a small boy that suddenly appears before the trio. He's dressed in a pair of khaki shorts, a white button down shirt and a pair of loafers. He looks no older than nine or ten years old before he lets out an impish giggle. "I hope you're all ready!" he says before starting to rush off into the darkness.

Around him, an inky blackness starts to fill the park. The odd thing is, the people don't seem to notice. Anything requiring electricity starts to crackle and stops working. The lights in the park go out. And soon, every single person in the area becomes an obsidian coffin with an upsidedown crucifix on it.

"What in the fucking name of…" John Wilco mutters, breath held tight to his chest as he staggers back, looking at those coffins around him. "Hades be damned, what has wrought this pandoropic vision?" John Wilco asks no one in particular, his hand goes to the tripod case on his back. Clasping it into his hands the Illusion drops away revealing the golden Pilum strapped to his back.

There's work to be done, people to harass, and at least Wilco looks like a wonderful target. So that's where Leonard goes. His plans are, unfortunately, put on hold by the sudden appearance of child and inky black that engulfs the world. He recoils at first, hand reaching for his chest, clutching there tightly for just a split second. "Fuck." Eyes flit toward Rain, John after. The latter earns a repetition of that first word for the weapon he reveals.

"Ready?" Rain echoes. Wait - her eyes are sharp, so're her senses. For WHAT? Her eyes squint a little. Then John gets a funny look. Either he's a LARPer or … Once the illusion drops, she gets her answer. But the inky blackness is far more distracting. She is quiet about it, but worry is written across her face. She reaches up to the pen behind her ear, and nudges a something in her purse. The groceries are set down. Life isn't worth a pie tin. To someone with the right eyes, the pen is a glittering knife, with a handle carved with hieroglyphics. She just stares. "Um."

The young boy starts to run around the trio, leting out a soft chuckle under his breath. He shakes his head and wrinkles his nose. "The fates brought you together but someone seeks to tear you apart. I hope you can handle it. It'd be a shame to lose some possible friends." he admits ruefully.

Gripping the haft of the javelin firmly the battle commander in him leaps out, he turns to Rain and Leonard, "You and you, keep your wits about you. If someone hasn't spiked my food with LSD then this child means business. We've been challenged," John Wilco grabs his helm from the backsack on the ground and shoves it on, "time to step up to the plate."

"You too?" Leonard tosses that question at Rain, eyes making another quick sketch of the woman. He stills then, recovers from momentary shock with one irritated purse of lips. He tries to follow the boy's movement, he does, but attention is a hard thing to set into any one place in the current environment. "Challenged." The word is repeated, louder question after: "By who?"

The jackal is out of the bag as it were. Rain looks a bit sheepish, but nods. "If he spiked the food, I suppose I had a fish too," She comments wryly. She keeps her purse and pen close, holding a scroll within and a knife. She hardly looks like a warrior, but she can listen and look at least. Leonard speaks the questions that would have risen to her lips. She just eyes him and the boy, but those coffins… eyes dart furtively.

"Not challenged. Marked. For execution.." the boy says softly as he lets out another soft chuckle under his breath. "I'd run if I were you. They'll get here soon. They don't like the children of the gods."

"Silence you twerp!" John Wilco shouts as he snatches the kid from running pace. John Wilco holds the kid with one arm, hand over the child's mouth as he squints into the blackness trying to gain some insight on where this portent-ed enemy might be coming from.

"Huh." That small noise from Leonard at the confirmation from the other, face tightening when the boy makes his revelation. The magician doesn't look like he'd survive execution very well. He takes steps to fix that with short gesture, flick of fingers and small prayer made under his breath. "Bring them, then." Just that from the man.

Rain opens and shuts her mouth as John shouts and grabs the kid. "Er-" She can't say if he's a bad kid for bringing the ominous omens or kind for warning them of it. Her eyebrows furrow for a moment, but she holsd her knife at the ready and keeps gazing around, sticking somewhat near John. Leonard gets a few blinks, but she has bigger things to worry about. "I suppose what will come will come."

The boy is lifted and then suddenly he appears elsewhere with a disdainful look towards John. "That wasnt very nice you know. I could squash you like a bug, but I won't. Simply because I think these guys will. So..I really suggest running.." he says with a sage and knowing glance towards the other two.

"I spit on you, demon thing!" John Wilco shouts before turning to the other two, "The child is right, we need to leave now and find a place more suitable for the fight. Let us take higher ground. Can both of you run? Quickly? If so then go, go now while it's not too late. I will take the hind." He looks to Leonard, "You'll take the lead, use your keen sight to find a spot we can back our selves in, bottle the enemy." He brings two fingers to his lips and whistles off into the distance, calling the two large dire wovles, one holding cargoing his shield. "Rome, Latin. With them!"

There's only a momentary questioning look that Leonard delivers to the other man, briefest tilt of brows before nod of assent comes. He's got the army, he leads the way. One arm lofts to tip hat, the magician beginning to skip quickly backward after. He takes up a full-on jog soon enough, making gesture toward one particularly large slope, making call of: "There!" So there is where he goes.

Blinkblink. Rain just sort of tilts her head at John. She shrugs and ambles along after Leonard. The woman keeps her knife carefully at hand (Walk safely, someone could lose an eye.) and purse close. "But we ARE prepared to leave if the odds are too bad?" She asks quietly. "Bravery is one thing, colossal stupidity another," Ironic, she uses a word borrow from John's culture. She looks over her shoulder too, out of habit.

And that's when the boy continues to follow them, grinning the entire time. HE's pretty nimble for a little ten year old, but then again he just teleported away from John's grasp. "They're coming. Are you ready?" he asks curiously.

Sliding on the Asip shield, adorned with the symbol of Ares's might, John Wilco and his twin battle worgs sprint for the hill. They will reach it before him, but he is prepared to take on those that might follow. John Wilco gets a wild hair of an idea and full throttles his thick Italian legs before vaulting onto a coffin and launching himself into the air. Midway he turns to get a view of the distance behind them to see if any perusers are in sight yet.

"This isn't my style." Leonard makes that weary admittance when he crests the top of the hill, spinning about like some dark top before gaze pinpoints upon his new friends. There's that boy too, Leonard's eyes narrowing into tiny slits when he appears elsewhere to dance. "What are you?" Question is almost shouted, fingers reaching to tuck into suit pockets after.

Peer. Peeeer. Rain is in full on stare mode. "Me either, really," She comments quietly. She looks to the boy, Leonard beating her to the question. The worgs get a glance too. Puppies? Killer puppies. She half crouches, keeping her knife in hand to look out over the hill.

"What am I? That would be telling now wouldnt it?" he says with another impish giggle as he suddenly disappears. "Byeeeee! I hope you don't die so we can play again soon.." he chirps merrily.

Suddenly, off in the distance is a large inky blob of nothingness. It's dark and black and carries with is various tentacles of shadow as it looks towards the trio with..a mask?

"We are not given challenges because they are easy," John Wilco starts in with wisdom but he's cut off by the sight of the creature, "there, creature from beyond!" John Wilco jerks forward his body like a taunt wire that snaps and whips the Pilum through the air. His whole body speaks words from the language of war and physical excellence.

This isn't what Leonard does, not usually. He does, however, have an idea how to start. There's a quick movement of arm, flicker of fingers before his weapon finally makes an appearance. A dagger, curved at the end, the hilt made of dark wood etched in symbols that have muted glow in the opressive darkness. He waits for now, squints to watch and prepare.

Squint. Rain is no warrior beside John. She's a chef with a touch of common sense. Really. The woman takes a moment, and considers the knife's handle, namely the black jackal's head carved beside the hieroglyphs. While such a creature may not exist, the darkness only a symbol and the animal a literal, the desert hardens its inhabitants. Here's hoping she can pull it off. Unwittingly perhaps, binding herself to something here or there, there's a flicker of *something* happening. That vague sparkle out of the corner of one's eye at night, a whorl of sand across a dune - it can't be placed, but it is there somehow, one could swear. Rain is drawing on the ichor that flows within to hopefully take on the blessings of a Jackal. Whether anything HAPPENS…

And the black inky darkness continues to creep closer. It's certainly..slow for a creature it's size. It shrieks as it's struck by the pilum though, the spear just sticking out of it's black inky mass.

The Spartan like soldier puts his Asips shield directly in front of him, backing up so he's in front of the other two brain-types. His hand moves to his back and he grasps at the air. Instantly the Pilum appears, covered in the "blood" of the monster. John Wilco stamps each of his large feet, "This is going to get very messy very quick. I do not know either of you but I feel honored to die with you."

Leonard, at the very least, knows how to throw things. He does it on stage, he's done it like this, and he makes the attempt again. Tamrask handle spins once around his fingers, full and snapping rotation as the thing rises over head. Arm snaps forward and releases, smooth cast with all the man's power behind it once he's gotten his bead on his target. Awkward projectile whirls forward, curved surface seeking purchase in the fast approaching dark.

And the creature screeches out once more. It's blobby inky mass continues going up the hill at a slow pace. It's a terribly slow creature. It continues to screech as three tentacles come up and throw balls of black energy towards the trio. Unfortunately for them, two of them are hit, and the energy eats away at where it hit just a bit…
From afar, to (Rain, John Wilco): Leonard nods somberly. My character is made to hide behind you.

The bold warrior bends backwards as the lobbed missile flies over his chest, his body holding taunt and the veins on his muscles popping as he pushes himself to the extreme to avoid that dangerous looking projectile. He pushes himself back up with a free hand, growling, to drop his Pilum for the xiphos at his hip. The long blade slices down as he comes at the beast shield and sword first.

And the creature screeches once more before suddenly it's black blobby darkness disappears, dissolving into the ground. Soon, everything turns back to normal. Coffins are people once more and the darkness is gone. Even the boy is too.

Rain was about to sta— oh, hey. It's uh, gone. The slightly tougher seeming woman just sort of tucks her pen behind her ear again. No longer the weapon of battle, or instrument of some salmon's destination into finely cut sashimi - it's a pen. She straightens up from her crouch, looking around for her groceries. Oh well. Frozen leftovers tonight! "So much for a boring walk home."

Letting the ink covered weapon dissolve on the ground the warrior raises his shield to the heavens, "We made your challenge, dark gods, you spat in our faces and we pushed you back to the dirt! Do you feel the shame of failure?" John Wilco points the Pilum to the other two, "They will learn your weakness and I will shove my spear into it. Know this!" John Wilco lowers his shield and calls his two worgs to his side. "Are you two well? You two have the air of philosophers, where I grabbed the child demon you questioned it. That was wise where I was stupid, perhaps either of you can apply that to this creature? Does it seem familiar?"

Pain. When the darkness vanishes and the monster's ushered to early demise Leonard takes time to retrieve his fallen weapon, lifting it with small wince. Whatever that was it managed to leave a mark. Wooden handle spins in hand again, habitual motion before it finds its proper hiding place shortly after. "Had worse. I've never seen it before, or the boy. Should have tagged him when I had the chance." A pause. "I can find out what they were."

Pain's bite hasn't forgotten Rain either. No longer effectively distracted, she winces and rubs her arm. The pen is kept away, and she sighs. "I'm fine, thank you." She peers at him and shakes her head. "I haven't seen him before, but I think I would know him if I saw him again." Air of philosophers - the more earthly woman just kind of peers at him, "For someone who claims not to have an air of philosophy, you have a way with words." She does pause though. Two other - hey! She stares at them.

"You two held your own in the face of alien things quite well, my own heart is still taking it's pause now and then to catch up with my blood." John Wilco remarks with a smirk. He looks around the area, at the darkness and coffins, "What is this place? Why does it stain my sight with it's diseased look? I feel dirty just being here."

"You two held your own in the face of alien things quite well, my own heart is still taking it's pause now and then to catch up with my blood." John Wilco remarks with a smirk. He looks down to his two worgs, "Hide yourselves," he commands softly and they shimmer, now looking more like large Shilo Shepard breeds. His own shield shimmers into his wrist watch and the Pilum back into the over the shoulder tripod case. His helm comes off and is shoved into his backpack.

"Not the first time, just one of the most sudden." Leonard gives smile after that, jagged split of lips and flash of narrow teeth. "You can call me Mr. Mystery. Lenny'll do too, or Leo, or Leonard, take your pick." Palms smooth at his clothing, making vain attempt to settle wrinkles, understandably avoiding spot where darkness scorched him. "You two?" Questioning glance for each.

Eh. Oh, Rain looks sad for a moment at the loss of futurepie. She just nods. Still getting used to all of this whackiness. She takes a deep breath and straightens the pen now balancing neatly ovre an ear. She smiles politely back, looking for all the world the benevolent baker who might just be handing over a treat. "Rain. And I - Mr. Mystery?" One eyebrow lifts a little and she bobs her head a moment peering over him. He's not wearing spandex, bursting into flames or - hmmm. Hmmmm. "Nice to meet you."

"John, my name is John. I'm known by no other moniker or misnomer…You fought the evil with me, my back acts as no sheath to daggers or blades and I remain non-paralyzed by Thebes sorcery so I can only assume that the both of you, Rain and Mystery, are of good design? If so then I offer you me, my lineage is of Ares, great Dodekatheon god of War and seed giver. Challenged to fight Titan and their spawn alike." John Wilco rambles, holding his arms out, "Are you two also on similar gaes?"

"The Pesedjet sends me for such." Leonard's acknowledgement is short, another lopsided smile gracing his lips. It doesn't take long to snatch up one hand, giving firm pump before arm skitters back to his side. Gesture is mirrored for Rain if the woman allows, "Mother neglected to tell me what I was going to be coming into. It seems worse than I would have imagined. It looks like meeting the both of you was quite fortuitous." Little nod is make at Rain when she repeats his moniker. The trick must be to actually take it seriously.

Whoa whoa whoa. Rain is apparently a fresh one. She just looks over the two. "Do … you do theatre or stuff? Like a Ren Faire?" She peers at John. "It's a pleasure to meet you, though." At the more detailed introduction, she rests a hand on her chest. "The Pesedjet sends m- well, I kind of wandered over…" She admits. No great cosmic purpose, no fantastic divine destiny, no rip roaring comedy of the universe - just a goof and her knife. She does politely shake Leonard's hand back with a smile. "I didn't think Dad's visit would lead to such neat stuff." Pause. "But if you really have to know, it's Anubis." She seems happy with this fact. Really. Anubis is perfectly groovy in her books, like the grandpa you look up to or something.

"Pesedjet? Of those I am not familiar with, but kind and brave people I do know of and I see them in you both. Ares also seemed to withhold the state of this city from my visions, perhaps it is time to re-asses the situation…And gain some allies in the process." John Wilco looks over both of you, "Of the Pesedjet, well met. Do you two pledge to a common goal of the Titan purging with me?"

"Why not?" A nod from Leonard. "You can take care of yourself. I'm not a fighter, I'm a finder. Nothing hides long from me, or us." There's an affirmative nod, agreeable motion as fingers tuck back away. Glance toward Rain then, the man settling to wait for her own assent to the idea.

Hmm. One can almost see the wheels turning, the hamsters running, and on and on … Rain is cautious and a bit thoughtful about it. Her eyebrows furrow a little. "Sure," She nods. "It could be interesting." She steeples her fingers. As for what she DOES, she doesn't really say. Instead she just kind of peers again. Quirky. "I'm in. But I'm not really a fighter. I can." Pause. "But it's not really my main thing." She doesn't seem quite sure WHERE she wants to sit or be, but damned if she's not going somewhere somehow.


4XP Each


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