chicago mission ♔ the people under your feet are shooting stars in the night

[rationalizes]

♬ Dreamworld - Rilo Kiley

WHO || Gar, Kat, Mark, Dumage, Martha, Myri, Buffy, Sven, Spike, Desmond Descant, ??, ?? [Closed]
WHAT || The Knights infiltrate Nightscape to intercept a deal for the Eternal Jade. And... so does Des. At the same time. Hilarity ensues???
WHERE || Chicago. Nightscape.
WHEN || Friday, March 9th, various tiemes.
HOW || Actionspam; Don't sweat tagging order.

It's been a busy day. Following Gar's discovery of a message that seems to imply a trade for the artifact known as the Eternal Jade will take place at a location called "Nightscape" the next evening, several of the Knights headed out to the area outlined in Hoffman Institute files, only to discover the place was an office building that sold pharmaceuticals. However, as Myrilandel stared at a strange canopied fruit stand attached to the front of the building, she began to notice something, well, quite odd about it. A long line of people waited against the edifice to enter the stand, but none of them looked as if they fit into the commercial sector whatsoever, with their leather, vinyl, spiked hair, glitter, colored hair, etc. In fact, only by staring at the image presented and concentrating could the others recognize there was something wrong with the whole picture - something that caused theirs eyes to rebound off from it and find the entire scene innocuous otherwise. The line of people disappeared into the canopy - but none of the crowd ever came out again, defying any logic about how many people could humanly fit inside the tiny stand at a time.

It was clear that it wasn't just any fruit stand.

It was an entrance. They quickly surmised just what it had to be an entrance to. Myrilandel managed to note a number of guards emerging from the club after hours, dressed in some kind of futuristic looking armor that... looks a lot like Halo armor. She spotted the symbol on the side of the van they climbed into, and the surveillance team took note of it before heading back to the hotel.

Meanwhile, the research team back home (Kat, Buffy, and Sven mostly, since Gar passed out asleep in her chair) threw themselves into finding out what they could about Nightscape: and found rumors about an invite-only underground club, whose location was protected by magic, which seemed to mesh with what the other Knights had seen. The most interesting aspect of the club, however, wasn't just the fact that invitations to it come in the form of pills that implant directions into the subject's unconscious mind, but that supposedly it played havoc with the memories of those who frequent it. Every visit fades from the patron's mind when they leave, in the same way a dream does - they could remember a vague feeling of what it was like, but not any details about what actually occurred - and the more they attempted to remember, the more the memories would elude them.

Today, they've managed to look up that symbol Myri noticed on the side of the van and identify it as belonging to a private security firm that hires out to wealthy patrons in often underhanded deals. Which has allowed a plan of action to be hatched. :O

The Knights will coordinate efforts to plant a fake detour between the security firm and the club, derailing a van full of guards to lead to a stop light that will be controlled by Kat. And allow them to come up through a conveniently placed manhole to plant a device on the underbelly of the truck that will cripple its battery temporarily. At this point, the Knights will assume control of the vehicle, and Kat, Gar, Buffy, and Spike will don the armor of the guards and take their weapons, proceeding to the club as security personnel. Mark and Myrilandel will transport the captured guards to somewhere safe to keep them out of the way and possibly interrogate them. Dumage and Martha will drop off Sven at the club - he'll be attempting to bluff his way through the front door as a patron so that they can have an eye in the crowd as well, and then the ladies will park on the street to sit and wait as a getaway car / backup if necessary.

Obviously, nothing could possibly go wrong. :)

[ooc; subthreads to come!]

Comments

[bigbad]

[Spike slips the coat on and it fits... like a lady's coat on a slim, relatively short man. Which is to say well. It feel's right. Yeah, the kid sure isn't getting this back. Ever.]

Yeah, obviously. To both of those. [He stands up and nods towards the door.] Well? Try it.

[slays]

[ She hesitates, giving him a look once he's got the jacket all slipped on. Ugh. She just shakes her head and then gets to her feet as well, heading to the door and waiting for Spike to follow before she slips the card in. She punches the numbers into the keypad: 4-5-1-7. ]

[behindcloseddoors]

♬ Toxic (fEAR remix) - Britney Spears

[The red light flashes twice, and then blinks green, and there's a barely audible click as the lock depresses.

When opened, the overall effect is just as overwhelming as walking into the club in the first place: the entire room is awash in a garish red glow that colors everyone and everything inside. Considering that all the walls, floors, and furniture themselves are shades of red, it takes the eyes a moment to adjust to what the hell is actually going on in here. Cages with crimson bars in the middle of the room contain barely clothed dancers, alternating between gyrations and reaching out through the bars towards patrons who walk too close, grasping at the bars and hissing and snapping like rabid beast women. A spot check of 12 can notice the incredibly sharp fangs, since they're openly baring them at all too appreciative onlookers.

The things going on in the various booths and corners of the room scream every shade of sinful: men and women of a number of largely humanoid species, er, consorting, some with knives or claws or fangs or--

Well, you get the idea. It's easy to figure out at a glance why the hell they call it the "Blood Room". The music pulses loudly enough to cover most of the sounds and screams, but it seems clear that everything in here is consensual, even if it's all incredibly fucked up. Maybe Riley's here somewhere. There's no other visible exits.]

[bigbad]

[The smell hits Spike before anything else. He has to brace himself, but with a will save of 23, the urge to vamp out and bite into the nearest neck passes pretty quickly. His spot check of 14 reveals that that's not the case for the ladies in the cages. Or the various patrons around the room. He looks around, swallowing a little.]

I don't think it's going down here. Let's leave. Now.

[slays]

[ Buffy's motions are slow and stiff as she enters the room. It all feels surreal, from the way the noise drowns Spike out, to the way it's hard to distinguish the furniture and the people from the walls and the room itself, to what these people -- if you can call them that -- are doing. Her stomach turns as she notices, with a spot check of 17, that people is a really loose term. Fangs. Big, scary, vicious, people-eating fangs.

She doesn't budge at Spike's words, because she's too frozen in place, staring. Horrified. All of these people, just ... offering themselves up. It was disgusting. They were gonna get themselves killed. ]

[bigbad]

[Buffy's being quiet. He turns towards her and grabs her shoulders, shaking her hard.] Come on, pet. Now's an awful time to go catatonic on me.

[firstslayer]

[But it isn't so easy for her to wake up.

For a moment, Spike's words, the mission, everything else that is falls away, and there is nothing but the beat of the music that seems to merge with the rising sound of her own blood pulsing in her ears,

and her

and them.

a sequence of nightmare images seem to jump out of her unconscious, merging with reality in flashes

brutal and unforgiving

and there's a voice: a raspy, ancient voice that seems to whisper one word, just one word, over and over behind her, even if it's unclear what that word is, as the scene spins in her mind...]

[slays]

[ Her heart paces faster with the rhythm of the music, and then faster, and then it feels like it might just explode. And then it feels like it's all piling up, the images, the violence, stopping her from breathing. ] Can't breathe. [ She staggers. ] Feel like I can't -- [ And then the nightmares feel real. Coming back to haunt her, grabbing her, shaking her. She winds up and punches what she perceives as the source of the indiscernible voice -- hard, knocking Spike back (atk 26 dmg 12). ]

[bigbad]

[It hits, easily, unless his new coat suddenly gives him a +8 bonus to AC, which it... really doesn't. His head snaps back with the force of the blow. He grabs his nose, eyes watering, and glares at her.]

Now is not the time for your little nervous breakdown! Snap out of it already! And don't hit me! [Because he will hit her back and that would hurt him as well.]

[firstslayer]

[But it feels right, feels like the only thing that is right, the only thing that is

the whisper doesn't leave her, is still all around her, behind her, inside her.

For a moment, Spike's face is replaced by another, grotesque image of something primitive and powerful, starkly colored, eyes bulging with intensity and single-minded focus. And her voice whispers again, more insistently, the word drilling into Buffy's skull:]

DEATH.

[The red seems to be a filter over everything now, not just her vision. She sees, hears, tastes, feels the red. Screams echo out from behind her, inside the room, breaking out through gaps in the beat.

*Will save of 16 or higher will break her out of ... all this.]

[slays]

[ Death. It sparks something inside her, something familiar. Some sense of understanding. Death. She should -- She is. It comes to her like truth, and drives her forward to curl her hands around the spectre's neck, squeezing. (25 atk 12 dmg) Choking the life out of it. Suffocating it the way she's suffocating, fighting her off --

And then it lapses. (22 will save) The vision blurs and she glimpses through it, sees Spike there. Smells the sweat and the blood of the red room. Hears the pulse of the music thrumming through her bones instead of the hiss of the macabre, creaking whisper. She drops her hands, surprised at herself. It tries to grab onto her and suck her back down, but she fights to pull herself out of it, blinking and looking around wildly. ]

There's something wrong with this place. With this -- [ She squeezes her eyes shut briefly, shaking it off. ] Spike, we need to find where this deal's going down. [ Why, no, she's not apologizing for beating him up. ]

[bigbad]

[Spike stumbles back a little when she lets go, gasping for breath, eyes wide. He doesn't need to breathe. Logically he knows that and yet he can't stop trying to force air into his lungs. Maybe it's because he wants to speak. He coughs, rubbing his neck, and finally gathers his wits enough to speak.]

You think? Because I was planning on going suddenly starkers and attacking my teammate. Oh, wait, no, that was you. What the bloody hell just happened, Buffy?

[behindcloseddoors]

[At least no one else in this room seems to think they're bizarre for beating each other up. Heck, they fit right in!

/useful atmospheric comment]

[slays]

It was -- [ She looks around, at a loss, gesticulating desperately. ] Spike, there's something else here. Something ... [ DEATH. The word, the concept, the entire abstractness of actual death pulsed through her. And the truth that it was her. She held a hand to her head. ]

[bigbad]

[Spike stares at her. Wow, Buffy. You are a fucking genius.] And here I thought it was just the two of us.

[But. Mission. He makes an exasperated noise in the back of his throat.] When we get out of here, you owe me a bloody explanation.

[slays]

[ I take RP very seriously.

Buffy fixes him with an aggravated look, but she cuts it short because he's right -- not the point right now. Mission is what matters. She shakes her head and glances around. ] I'm thinking that's gonna be pretty soon. There's no way they can even hear someone else in here, let alone make a deal for some big scary mystical whosit.

Best guess says the other rooms are more of the same. [ She makes an ick face at some of the ... uh. patrons. nearest them. She glances back to Spike. ] Let's get out of here. Maybe Kat and Gar had better luck. [ She backs off the first few steps, then turns to make her way too quickly out of the room. That was ... incredibly unpleasant. ]

[behindcloseddoors]

♬ Blow - Ke$ha

[Outside, the club is still just as hopping, though the sense of expectation seems only to have ramped up further, as if the place is going to combust at any moment into a riot.

Navigating the crowd's more difficult, as a result, between people's intensity and the fact that they're no longer wearing protective suits. Strength check it up.]

[bigbad]

[Spike's strength check of 21 means he has no trouble, really. He starts forcing his way through the crowd, keeping a wary eye on the crowd and also Buffy. ...It's a very wary, natural 20 spot check type eye.

He's just as happy as she is to get out of that room, though probably not for the same reasons. Or not entirely. His problem was less that it disgusted him so much as that it didn't. He was sure it was a vampire thing, but that didn't make it any less disturbing.]

[slays]

[ Not-so-natural kind of 20 on strength check, Buffy easily shoves her way around as well. Unsurprising to Spike and herself, but surprising to anyone else given her size. She sticks close to Spike's side, trying to keep herself focused. None of that weird ... wonky flippy acid trippy weirdness. No. She was alert, and concentrating, and ... and being a good teammate. Right? She pushed toward the edge of the crowd, back in the direction of the tables where Kat and Gar had diverted to. ]

[behindcloseddoors]

[A good goal, but there's a minor road bump along the way, because the lights dash out across the building suddenly, replaced by only streaming red lasers flashing over the faces which turn anxiously as one towards the stage, full of a zealous anticipation and a sudden sequence of screams that echo through the entire building.

Out of the stage begins to rise a white curtain, that encircles the entire circumference of the platform, as an otherworldly delicate musical beat chimes through the air, a low pulsing beat below it that the lights flash along with, as if reflecting the suddenly in sync heartbeat of the crowd.

The curtain rises all the way to the roof, and smoke starts pouring out from under its sides, while the crowd goes insane, screaming and pawing at the thrust stage, as if they can no longer even take another moment.

The screaming climaxes as a silhouetted figure appears in the center of the stage, flanked by several others. Evident curves indicate it's definitely a female back there, but everyone else seemed to be in on some bigger secret about her identity - their screams amplified with even this tease of a glance.]

[bigbad]

[Spike doesn't care how excited everyone is, nor does he care who the woman on the stage is. He's here on a mission that isn't going well, not to dance. He just wants to get through the crowd and find Gar and Kat and either finish the mission or get out. Really, at this point he's okay with either plan. You'd think a mission to a kinky sex and dancing club would be more fun and less annoying. But his neck hurts from Buffy strangling him in the non-sexy way and it's really just aggravating.

He does have to stop momentarily as everyone starts flailing and screaming even more. He looks over at Buffy and grabs her hand. He really doesn't want to get separated from her in this madness.]

[slay]

[ She jerks her hand out of his grasp and elbows him roughly. The look she gives him is just so accusatory of him trying to put the moves on her when they are busy trying to fucking do a mission. She's not deterred by the lights and sounds around them, though she does turn away from him to glance up on the stage and try to get an idea of who the fuck everyone is so excited for (spot check 11). ]

[borrowedheaven]

[The strident voices around them fall silent, however, when a throaty, pure voice pierces through the roar.

♬ Dark Side ; Kelly Clarkson

O-oh. Oh-o-oh.
There's a place that I know
It's not pretty there and few have ever gone
If I show it to you now
Will it make you run away
Or will you stay
Even if it hurts
Even if I try to push you out
Will you return?
And remind me who I really am
Please remind me who I really am...

Behind the curtain, the silhouettes break away from the singer, striking dramatic shadowed poses as more and more smoke billows out from under. The sea around them freezes, everyone now utterly transfixed on the stage.

It's hard not to be. Even Spike and Buffy would feel a strange compulsion† to stare as well, as the girl emerges when the curtain rolls up.

Thigh-high black boots gave way to a flash of skin and then a matching colored mini-dress that's so tight that it looks like as if it were oozed out of a bottle and molded to her body. The fabric is sheer nylon over her midriff. Black gloves run up her arms, and her hair is dread locked and streaked alternately black and white. A heavy pendent necklace completes the look. She has an exotic coppery skin tone, and features that are finely balanced, and, they might note, if they can manage a Spot check (Wis) of 15 or more, maybe hinting at an inhuman quality.

The most noticeable thing about her, however, has to do with a lot more than her strikingly unique looks. Rather, it's the fluid way she moves, the strange entrancing aura that surrounds her, a black hole of fascination that seems to suck in the whole place effortlessly.

But most powerful of all is that voice. It's the most inhuman thing about her - and the strange heartbreaking sense of sorrow and longing, grace and mystery that it conveys feels like much more than just a stage act. There's an honest pain beneath the earnest vocals, that's more compelling than anything about her physical appearance.]

Everybody's got a dark side
Do you love me?
Can you love mine?
Nobody's a picture perfect
But we're worth it
You know that we're worth it
Will you love me?
Even with my dark side?

[† A Will save of 15 or more will allow them to keep their head. Otherwise, they'll get caught up in it just as much as everyone else: it's a strange, obsessive feeling, an unhealthy rush of desire to be the object of the woman's attention (whether in a sexy way or a nonsexy way), and a complete loss of focus on... whatever it was they were here for again... For the moment, this is all that seems to matter.]

[bigbad]

[Spike's rolls have improved DRASTICALLY lately. In fact, they've been better ever since he got his coat. THE DICE KNOW. He just feels more like himself now and can more effectively do shit, I guess...

Anyway. The woman is beautiful. It's hard not to notice. But Spike's keen eyes, and his spot check of 23, mean that he can tell she's not what she seems. What exactly she is, he doesn't know, but he'd bet anything it isn't human. And maybe that knowledge is what helps him keep his wits about him. His will save's a 23.

In other circumstances, he might want to spend a bit more time on the music, even if he's not caught up. It is nice. But they've got a mission, and Buffy's being her ever-pleasant self. Yes, he caught that look. He steps in closer to her and shouts, trying to be heard over the music.]

Come on! Stay close to me!

[slay]

[ Will save of 18 keeps her head about her, but she feels the pull all the same. And she's wise enough to realize there's something supernatural about how drawn she feels, but her spot check of 13 means she doesn't see any of not-Kelly Clarkson's monster-y traits. She strains to hear ears (listen check 14) to catch what Spike says, and gives him a nod. ]

Not that I'm not totally digging on the freaky deaky cult vibe, but we're on business. [ She puts a hand on his arm -- not holding his hand -- and continues to try and shove past the dancing crowd. Damn. So freaking stuffy in here that it was looking unlikely that they'd even be able to get to the tables. ]