Illin' it in da 'Rens

GM: Viktor
Players: Chaz, Seraf, Viktor.
Synopsis: Chaz, Seraf and Viktor embark to recover a lost shipment in the Warrens. What they find opens doors that the runners preferred to remain shut.
Date: 11JUN10


11JUN10

0230hrs.

Your phone vibrates. You have a text message. Upon checking it, you see simply. "Employment Opp. Sally's Bakery. 0330 hrs. -V"

Chaz glances down at his phone as the text message comes in, grinning slightly. "Well, this really takes the cake," he comments to himself, getting himself suited up for a meet. Just the standard stuff, weapon, armor, fake SIN, the usual stuff.

Sally's Bakery is situated in a quaint, commercial corner in the CAS district. Being that it is a bakery, it is very much functional at this hour and soft white light pours through the window into the dark streets. From blocks away, you can smell fresh bread and other pastries in the process of cooking.

The shop itself is quite small and goes deeper into the building its in than it is wide. It's three floors high and on the ground floor you can see a handful of ovens. There are a few cheap, plastic seats on the wall across from the counter that dominates one end of the room. At the back of the room, there's a door marked "Employees only."

Seraf first wonders where in the hell Sally's Bakery is…but then gets around to getting her crap together and getting directions to the place, which is, of course, no problem given the time frame. Not wanting to walk around looking too horribly suspicious, she bags up her equipment in a duffel bag and takes that with her, figuring she can change and look presentable come time to actually do things. For a meeting, streetclothes should work, right? Contrary to Chaz, she leaves her SIN at home, figuring no SIN is better than a real SIN when it comes to illicit activities.

Once she gets to the bakery (preferably early), she busies herself ordering a pastry and finding a none-too-conspicuous table in the corner where the duffel bag won't draw too much attention and where she won't be bothered.

Chaz isn't all that far behind Seraf, walking into the bakery about ten minutes before the meet and ordering himself something to eat before moving to his own little table to sit at, enjoying his sweetbread. He has his phone and pocket computer resting on the table, just in case.

Clomp, clomp, clomp. The sound of heavy boots thudding against the old-fashioned wooden floor of the bakery heralds the arrival of someone from the opposite end of the Employees Only door. With a squeak, the door opens and a tired, stocky elf practically falls through it. He yawns before he even looks in the direction of the table, leaning against the wall and stretching his rear legs. Turning around, he notices the two of you sitting there.

"'sup chummer?" the elf offers a weary grin to the other keebler in the building before giving this new woman a once over. He pulls over a small, four run step stool and opens it up, sitting on the middle rung. Looking down at the two of you, he says, "Shit, I'm hungry."

Seraf gives a wave in Chaz's direction when he shows up, but then raises an eyebrow ever-so-slowly at that comment from the later-arriving, unnamed elf. However, after a second, she can't help but ask, "How can you be hungry? You're in a damn bakery. Or are you the guy what called us? You aren't going to ask us to go get you a bagel or something, are you?"

Chaz returns the wave to Seraf and then nods to the newcomer. "Just enjoying some food at the moment," he says and smirks, "And yeah, get yourself some food if you're that starving. Hell, I'll spot you the creds if that's a problem."

From atop the step stool, the elf's gaze focuses entirely on the human. His scarred, worn visage showing a hint of amusement, "Rookie, if someone offers yer' green ass 'yen for grabbin' a bagel, ye'd better be off to the fuckin' grocery store." The elf's assessment of the woman is interrupted by an intense rumble from his stomach and he changes the subject, "Naw, naw, brother, I didn't call ya for a frickin' loan. I got an op that needs to go down real ricky tick, scan? Rookie, meet Chaz, Chaz, meet Rookie. And me, call me Vik." The elf thrusts a finger in Chaz's direction, "This fraggin' keebler gets it done pronto. It's why he's here." Getting down to business, Viktor continues, "There's a big-ass truck sitting in the 'Rens loaded up with the boom. My fixer wants that shit bad, so we're goin' out there tonight to snag it. Copy?"

Seraf bows her head to the first bit from the bestooled elf, "Point well taken." Then, after the rest of it, she grins a bit, "Hey, an actual job. Can't say no to that. …but uh, gotta ask: what's the plan? Right now, I see a doctorly type," she points at Chaz after that first bit, then at herself, "And me. And I prefer to keep a distance between myself and gunfire if at all possible." She looks Vik up and down for a second, and considers for a second, "I'm guessing you're gonna be our up-close-and-personal type? I hope? Please?"

Chaz tilts his head and smiles to Seraf's assessment of him, but doesn't say anything for the moment to that, instead just nodding to Viktor. "Sounds like it could be quite the fun little trip," he admits, "Im assuming you know something about who's turf its on and the like?" He takes a bite of his food, chewing quietly as he waits for some of the answers to the asked questions.

The playful glint in the elf's eyes poofs as the woman doesn't rise to his bait. "Yea, reckun' you could be sayin' that 'bout me," the elf's stomach rumbles again but he shakes it off, "As fer a plan, no. I gots an address, but that's it. Shit jus' fell into my lap ten fuggin' minutes 'fore I called yer asses. Actually," the elf leans forward, looking to both of you, "was hoping y'all'd be able to tell me a little sumpin."

Withdrawing a large, plastic sheathed, sturdy looking Poc-Sec from his hoodie pocket, he places it on the table and spins it around to face the two of you. "Frag it, I'm gettin' sumthin'," Viktor hops off the stool with a pair of loud thuds and bashes the door into the back open, disappearing within.

Seraf beams at that response from the stockier elf and then simply leans over the table to peer at the device rather than saying anything that might make her look even more the part of Rookie…though saying nothing at all might do just that. After a moment, and after Vik is gone, she looks up at Chaz, "So…I know approximately shit about the Warrens, so that part's all you. However, staging an ambush definitely seems like the most obvious and applicable idea. Hell, I don't even see a reason to get up close unless they figure out where we are or make to replace the driver who we've presumably shot." She pauses, then, "Then again, they'll probably have more folks than us, so if we stay back, we may miss an opportunity to grab the truck and book it."

Chaz nods slowly and smirks, considering that. He glances down to the pocsec and nods. "An ambush works, though if there's gangers involved, we run a bit of a problem there, since most of them have friends a quick call away," he says, "What we could do is some recon, figure out exactly the layout of where the truck is being held and then deal with the gangers one way or another." He pauses and smiles, "One of the things with gangs is they're usually in it for the money, so you cut them a better deal and you've got likely somewhere between fifty to seventy five percent chance they'll take it. The other twenty five percent of the time, they'll just be out to cause whatever ruckus they can."

A few minutes later, sizzling and the smell of grease and fat begin to fill the air, competing with the overwhelming smell of rising dough. A faint whistling may be heard coming form the back of the bakery.

Seraf wrinkles her nose up somewhat, but nods nonetheless, "Right, right. …but cutting them a better deal means spending money. I think bullets are cheaper than making deals. And, personally, I'd rather not show my face to a ganger that I'm about to rip off or shoot. Howeeever, recon is a good idea, and I could actually deal with that fairly easily. And, actually, if we can find a ganger that's about my build, I could do a quick switcheroo if that somehow helps us. Buuut once you get to the point of doing shit like that, things are starting to get too complicated to possibly go right."

Chaz laughs at the ending comment from Seraf. "Too complicated to go right?" he asks and smiles. "Complicated is where I shine. Get you in a Polymimetic Mask and you could pretty much completely become their double," he says. "And as for what I do, well, I am a doc type, at least as far as the public knows, but I'm also a laywer, a technician, a security consultant, a forensic investigator, a martial arts instructor, a negotiator, an accountant, a pilot," he comments and smirks, "Basically, I'm a… Pretender, I guess is the best word for it." He shrugs his shoulders and smiles, "So, surveil the area, figure out where they've got the van stored and what sort of security they've got and we can go from there."

There's a sharp, metallic ding from the back and a minute later, Viktor barges through the door with his shoulder and sets himself back down on the stool. Again, high above the table, this time he has a large plate with what must be 8 scrambled eggs and a torn, mangled chunk of fresh bread. Frantically, he begins shovelling eggs into his mouth with the bread.

You feel like you're watching Discovery Channel Tri-D as the elf demolishes the eggs. After a few minutes, the eggs and bread are gone and the clean plate is on the table. Viktor looks down at his shirt, covered with crumbs. He begins to pick them off, one by one, but stops and thrusts his hand into the hoodie pocket. Two small, black sticks of plastic slide across the table at the two of you. "Half in advance. Rest can be in dakka or cred."

Seraf grins a bit lopsidedly and waves a hand a little, "Don't even worry about it. I'm my own damn polymimetic mask. I didn't mention earlier that I'm kinda adepty on the side, did I?" She gets momentarily distracted by the thought of having to avoid some egg-shrapnel, but then goes back to talkign with Chaz, "Right, yeah. So…recon, but then what? Meet back up thereafter and figure it out? I mean, if we can get one of us into the truck, we might be able to pull it off quick and by surprise, but that also has a high risk of getting shot in the face surrounded by people that will make very sure that you don't get to see the light of day or a doctor ever again. So…risky, but yeah. What're you thinking?" She perks at the appearance of creds and promptly pockets hers, "Awesome. Works for me."

Chaz nods and mmms, considering as Seraf talks and Viktor devours. At least he's remembering to breathe. "Well, I can think of a few ideas, but it all depends on what we're up against. After all, we could always buy some bread and the like for some squatters and get them to make a distraction," he says as he takes the credstick, "But yeah, taking them out is definately an option."

From atop his stool, Viktor purrs contentedly, seemingly in his own world and riding out the full stomach high. "Alright," he says suddenly, "Let's fuckin' leg it." The elf withdraws a single key on a ring and swings it about his finger. He points to Chaz and mouths, "You're good." The elf turns and points to the woman, saying, "Good to go?" He holds two thumbs up questioningly.

Seraf blinks and looks up from the device when she hears the other elf asking questions, "Good? Uh, yeah. I can change and whatnot sometime along the way. Just don't wanna be walking around town with a rifle looking all militaristic and highly suspicious." That said, she hops up with her bag, "But I'm guessing you've got transportation arranged, soooo, I should probably go do that now?" She mimics the thumbs-up, but rather than up, they're pointed off to the side at, say…the bathrooms.

Chaz nods to Viktor and stands, taking the last bite of his bread. "Yeah, I'm good to go," he says, "I'm pretty sure we can dig up some info and arrange things as we need." He brushes himself off and looks at Seraf. "If you want to, I'm not about to stop ya, don't even know if I could," he jokes.

Viktor cocks his head at Seraf and looks at the bathroom. He shrugs, confused and delerious from eggs. "Alright chummers," he hops off the stool and grabs the swinging key. Whistling loudly, he signals for one of the bakers, an older man with dark skin and a headwrap. The man catches the signal and nods, disappearing behind an oven. "Meet me at the Crank. I live at that shithole. We can op outta there."

The baker returns with an assault rifle. With one burly arm, he tosses the piece over the counter to the elf who snatches it out of the air, slinging it over a shoulder. "Shokran," he says, tossing back a credstick and heading to the door with a wink to the woman, "Can't be all militaristic n' shit, right?" Making a gun-hand, he shoots Chase and blazes out the door.

Chaz grins and nods to Viktor. "I suppose we can't," he says and smirks softly, tapping a few buttons on his pocket computer. "Well, this could be useful," he says to himself and smirks, tilting his head before coughing lightly. "Might just have to try that."

Seraf wrinkles her nose a bit at the elf's exit, but once again resists taking the bait. Instead, she looks to Chaz once Vik is gone, "You know this guy, right? Can I safely assume that the cavalier attitude has something to do with confidence in his abilities? If so, I won't complain." Once she's got a nod or a headshake or somesuch for that, she heads on her way. By the time she arrives at the Crank, she's propertly attired for the occasion, having changed into a camo jumpsuit appropriate for dark-and-urban environs, some goggles pushed up into her hair, and a transmitter for the sake of communications. Oh, and, of course, a scoped, silenced hunting rifle and a silenced pistol on the side to fit the part. Those, she keeps in a now-otherwise-empty bag, as if still afraid to draw too much attention. Though, the extra ammo apparent on her belt isn't much less conspicuous.

Chaz nods his head softly at Seraf's comment. "The attiude does come from experience," he says and grins. He's wearing a longcoat, armored vest, street clothes and form fitting body armor. His sunglasses just rest on his nose. The rest of the gear is either in his vehicle or under his jacket from the looks of it. "Time to go meet up with the rest of the team."

The Crank

Viktor catches your attentions when you show up in the front of the Crank. Welcome to the Warrens, where no one gives a shit about anything. Dressed to kill is one of two options, the other is dressing to be killed. "Follow me." The elf is more subdued now, maybe his blood sugar has dropped a bit. His dark form, dressed in urban camo fatigues, leads you into an alleyway none too far from the hotel.

Unslinging the heavily modded Russian made assault rifle, the elf drops to one knee in the dirt. "Y'all find out anything 'bout this address? I did a little digging and came up with two metric tons of diddley-squat."

Seraf follows the elf into the alleyway and finds a wall to lean up against, since getty comfy seems to be in order, "Not really. Looked at some maps, so I know where a bunch of squares and rectangles are, but nothing concrete. Other than the squares and rectangles. Those are probably concrete." She jerks a thumb toward the presumably-in-tow Chaz, "Chaz and I were thinking maybe some more personal recon was in order. I brought a change of clothes in case you two want me to go wander around and look at things. On which note, do we even know who we're dealing with? Are we talking gangers or professionals?"

Chaz smirks as he pulls up to the Crank, moving towards the alleyway, hmmming. "I haven't found out anything yet, but I could see about asking a couple street people and see what they know," he says and shrugs lightly. "And I can always go in as a different character, think I've got an old coat around here somewhere. Just muss up the hair, hunch over, carry around a paper bag and stagger some. Should give good recon, and a decent distraction."

Viktor shakes his head, "No, I ain't got no idea what we're up against. Viktor scratches his chin with the iron sight of his weapon. "Them's both good ideas," the elf agrees with a nod to both of you, "If'n we get there and they's gangers swarmin' our mark, I'm all fer' yer maskin' stuff. But shit," he curses, "I was hoping one of y'all hear something…" He looks to Chaz, a hint of concern in his eyes, "What you think, bud? Wanna go put eyes on this place?"

Seraf nods a few times to that, and does a thumbs-up in Chaz's direction, "Say yes. It's a good idea. I don't like going into things without any idea of what's going on. I don't want to fire the first shot and get fifty highly-trained commando units in the face. As unlikely as that is, I'd like to rule it out before we get committed to a gunfight."

Chaz nods and smiles to the pair before looking back at his vehicle. "Ok, I'll go do some primary recon, get your comms on and I'll see what I can do," he offers and hmmms, taking a few deep breaths, and reciting a few nonsense lines, voice exercises perhaps, before switching to a Spanish accented voice. "I's don't need no…" he pauses and hiccups, lifting his arm to wipe at his face, "Need no… Damn kids, playing their music so loud…"

Viktor grins and claps the other elf on the shoulder as he begins to practice his lines. "Good trash, bro," he looks at the woman and his eyes linger on the silenced rifle. He whistles softly, "Sweet piece, let's give Chaz a little room to insert then we'll find you a nest, eh?"

Seraf looks indignant for a second, but then realizes that "sweet piece" referred to her weapon and wasn't some odd elven colloquialism. Then, she blinks and nods a few times, "Oh, yeah. I heart it. Nowadays, though, it's just a holdover until I can get something nicer. 's'what every dime I make is going toward. But yeah. I've got a few ideas based on the maps, but who knows what they'll be like when we get there." That said, she gets to work getting her comm unit set up on the appropriate channel and her subvocally mic in place and all that good stuff.

Chaz smiles slightly and rocks on his feet, staggering backwards before bumping into a stop sign. He looks up at it and hiccups again. "Sorry," he says and then looks at it. "No, you stop." A few moments pass and then he repeats himself, "No, you." He reaches out to push at the stop sign's pole, pushing himself off balance before reaching out to grab it and hang on. "Someone stop the Earf… I wanna git off."

Seraf sticks close to Viktor, since he's more meaty and bullet-absorbant than she, and lets him take the lead, just in case somebody doesn't like the look of the two of them. Seraf's got her weapons un-bagged now, with the pistol at her hip and her rifle strapped across her back overtop of the bag, which she carries over one shoulder. As she follows, she chats away at Viktor like the rookie she is, "So, Chaz. Is he good for anything but being a really good liar? He said something about martial arts, right?"

Thumping along the sidewalk at a light jog, Viktor smiles at the question. "That keebler bastard, well," Viktor brings up the GPS when the two of you reach an intersection, the soft blue light illuminating his face in the darkness. He thrusts a thumb to the left and is on the move again, "he's good at jus' bout e'erything. Pretty boy's got a hot shot rep."

After a few more minutes of travelling, you notice that the street life has been dying down. A few times, you've seen ganger activity - a ganger tagging a wall, a trio of synthleather clad thugs drinking by bikes…but now that gang activity is done. Apartments and abandoned storefronts that would normally be claimed by squatters seem fairly vacant. Viktor checks the GPS again and grunts. Reaching up, he pulls down a bulky pair of goggles. He squeezes an activator on the side of the goggles and you hear a soft electronic whine and Vik's eyes and face behind the goggles disappears behind the new mirrored visage.

Chaz just keeps stumbling along as he plays his role, walking down the side of the street, stagging lightly as he talks to himself in a dull mumble, not wanting to attract all that much attention until he gets too close to his target. He tilts his head to the side and smirks, "I see you there," he mutters, looking nowhere in particular, "They say you're not there, but I know you are… The fairies tell me so, the fairies, Queen Mab, Titania, and the leprechauns… Gold, gold, coins…" He looks up at the sky and hiccups, "It's all about the oysters, isn't it? I knew it, I knew it." He pauses and brushes an arm against his mouth again, "They're in here, they're in here…" He shakes his head, stumbling slightly, "The eyes, they're watching me, even when they're not…"

"Good enough for me! Reputations have to come from somewhere, right?" When Vik checks the GPS, she starts to look up and around, figuring that they're near something of import. And…since all the cool kids are doing it, she pulls down her goggles as well, taking a moment to adjust to the low-light mode before she continues to follow along…still chattering away, "What's up, Viktor? Why the grunting? Grunting does not inspire confidence when I don't know what it's about, y'know."

Few of the Warrens denizens pay attention to the stumbling drunk. The rule of life here is survival. Gangers on the prowl pass Chaz by. A brick wall of an ork covered in jangling chains suddenly thrusts his face in Chaz's. His pug like snout sniffs and Chaz smells the ganger's noxious, un-Listerined breath. Beady eyes survey the drunk and finally, with jerky motions brought on by some form of drugs, the ork leaves, jingling all the way.

Chaz rocks slowly on his heels and hiccups again. He glances into an alleyway and blinks. "Was it a car or a cat I saw?" He shakes his head and laughs, "A cutthroat in every alley, but I'll not let them take us alive." He strokes at his side and smiles, "Just you and me, Binky." He then bumps into the ork as he comes into his way and looks up at him blinking again. "Madam," he says and smiles lopsidedly, "I'm Adam. Tell me about the rabbits."

Viktor beholds the woman from behind his goggles, which by default flick on to night-vision. Seraf lights up in all shades of green and white and the elf turns to look in the direction of the address. "Nothin'," the elf shrugs, "Ain't nothin'." He holds up a paw and points in the direction of the building, "I reckon' we're two blocks away now. Ya see any place you wanna set up wit' dat longarm?"

Seraf looks up and around, taking in plenty of greenness herself, before finally shaking her head, "Surely we can find better. I can make do with most anything, though. Think we've got time to circle around and find someplace real nice?" She keeps peering around after that, just in case there's something that needs to be seen, or maybe a spot she hadn't already noticed. …or maybe she's just nervous. Who knows?

Chaz rounds a corner, stumbling as he does, seeing the general direction of the target. He takes a deep breath and pats at his side again, "But Binky, I'm allergic to microwaves. They release space hamsters into my bloodstream," He says and then rubs at his eyes, leaning against the wall "Ah, Satan Sees Natasha. Do geese see God?" he says and then sniffs at the air, coughing. He looks around and smiles, taking in the sights around him before nodding. "There is strength in numbers, and I am two or three, at least." He then kicks on his cybernetics via mental command, kicking on his transducer to broadcast his thoughts over the comm, to not interrupt his mumblings.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Detecting ignited petrolum products at target, as well as flickering lights. Likely fire, or could be something else, will move in for closer observation."

Viktor presses a finger to one ear for a moment, turning to look at Seraf. Despite his eyes and half of his face being hidden by the goggles, he looks ill at ease. There's a click and the elf's thumb flicks off the safety of the assault rifle, but doesn't load the first round. He mutters into the comm.

Commlink-Chase> Viktor says, "Copy that."

Seraf pauses in her excessive peering and grins all of a sudden, "Hey, Vik, look at that!" She points over at the church, but then goes to her comm just so Chaz can be informed, too. Once she's muttered into it, she looks to Vik, "I'm headed that way. You coming with or splitting off toward the target?" Before waiting for an answer, she starts to make a B-line for the church in question, assuming Vik will let her know what's up.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Hey, found a church. Heading to the belltower."

Chaz smirks as he starts to move closer, muttering to himself some more. "I know of dragons with feet like rabbits, 'tis true, I swear." He then glances to the side and shakes his head. "No, it's Duck Season…. Duck Season… Rabbit Season…" He rubs a hand along his face and shakes his head. "You're despicable." He takes a deep breath and nods, "And this time… Don't forget the gravy." He moves towards the building, rocking on his steps as he goes, turning his senses up to full to try and pick up anything as he gets in closer. Smiles, everyone, smiles," he says softly to himself before switching to a squeaky, squirrelish voice, "This is like some great fantasy!"

Chaz stumbles down the street, the closer he gets, the louder the crackling becomes and the more noxious the burning smell. There's no one else around. Turning a final corner, Chaz finds himself at a corner of a large, open park. The park itself has been thoroughly devastated by urban warfare, much of the equipment turned into impromptu barricades. Smoke billows in a tall, slanting column to the south, issuing forth from a smashed up jeep that has collided with…

A truck.

Meanwhile, Viktor takes off after Seraf, two entering the park area further north from Chaz, headed toward the church.

Seraf abruptly ducks and plants herself back-first against any kinda object she can find when she realizes she's running out into a fairly open area, but continues on her way by moving from cover to cover, getting nearer to the church bit by bit. When she catches a glimpse of the truck (now with added jeep), she comes in over the mic again, now actually utilizing her subvocal bit.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "This mess isn't from the truck, is it? Our stuff didn't get blown up, did it? 'cause that would suck."

Chaz wanders into the park, looking up at one of the trees and just smiling. "No lemons, no melons," he says and giggles. He then continues as he walks towards the target location, letting his senses go to fill and smiles. "I'm a bird, I'm a plane, I'm a choo-choo train." He lifts a hand up as if to pull the cord for the train signal as he walks towards the address.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Will move in to see, could be fending from a gang attack, but we shall see."

Viktor hunches down next to Seraph, finding himself in a remarkably large crater. Taking a moment, the elf looks around, "What the frag happened here…looks like' fuckin' Grand Union…" Peering over the lip of the crater, he begins surveying the church, his free hand magnifying the image. After a couple of minutes, he flicks the goggles back to normal mag and thermo, bathing the formerly green area in all colors of the visible spectrum. Almost entirely green and blue. "Looks clear, you take point in," he whispers into Seraf's ear.

Seraf wrinkles her nose a little at the news that she's on point, but gives a nod nonetheless, mumbling as she stands up to leave the crater, "An empty church in the Warrens? Go figure." She pulls her pistol from its holster and heads up to the church's entrance slow-and-sneaky. Every corner she's made to go around, she peers around first, and any suspiciously hiding-place-like spots are checked, Seraf obviously favoring caution over speed.

Chaz's bizarre, drunken behavior only serves to make the scene more maddeningly chaotic. The address, he finds, is the remains of a library, previously destroyed by fire and currently feeling its affects again as the smoke and flames lick the building's exterior. Nearing the truck, he surveys the damage…it has been slammed in the passenger's side by the jeep, the rubber tracks left in the street indicating the trajectories of the vehicles. Puddles of drying blood cover the pavement as well as crimson footprints leading to and from the action. Shell casings flicker in the fire light.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Think I know where the bodies went. Smells real nice in here."

Opening the large double doors to the church, reveals a chaotic inner lobby. Metal folding chairs were piled against the outer doors. The doors to the inner part of the church are thrown open, covered in bloody handprints. The formerly white wallpaper, yellowed with age and neglect, is covered in gore. "Frag me," Viktor mutters behind you. He's just shut the outer door.

Chaz surveys the area, taking in what it looks like happened here and just shakes his head. "Oh no! Don Ho!" he says to himself as he sees what seems to be breaking out here, the blood and footprints just adding to the scene. "Nurse, I spy gypsies, run!" he mutters and nods his head slowly, sighing. "Onward, to futility!" he says, turning to take a look at the truck, seeing if it still carries anything of what he was sent to retrieve.

The rear door to the truck is in sorry shape, the paint peeling, cooked by the flames. The door is quite hot.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Truck was hit by jeep, seeing blood pools and footprints at the scene. Rear door of the truck is hot, paint scorched by the looks of it. Likely contents cooked."

Seraf rubs her nose with her free hand and grumbles under her breath about the smell, only then coming out with actual words, "Somebody got carried away. Geez." Trying her best to ignore it, she starts to look up and around, trying to find the ladder up to the belltower, "Wanna check the corners and whatnot? I'll see about getting upstairs."

"Yea…" the elf's visored gaze scans the lobby. Cha…click! The first 7.62mm round is loaded now. "On it." The elf shoulders his AK, the weapon sending RF signals to his goggles, dropping a solid crosshair on whatever the AK's barrel is pointed at. The elf disappears into the darkened interior of the church, the electricity to the larger area of worship apparently disconnected.

Commlink-Chase> Viktor says, "Low light's good in here, come on in. Ten meters to yer right, stairs."
«Plot-Page» (To: Chaz) Viktor says, "Some of the footprints are dragging and irregular."

Entering the main area of the Church, you see pews jostled into disarray, some overturned. Many of the stained glass windows lining the walls are shattered, presumably by the guns that riddled the wooden walls with bullet holes. Debris is everywhere, as is the smell of death. There are balconies on the sides of the church, stairs on either side that presumably lead up to them.

Seraf mindlessly follows the directions of the elf, assuming them to be correct: she steps around the corner to the right and heads right up the stairs at a trot, rounding each corner with her pistol raised. She takes a quick glance down at the central area once she's on a balcony, but mostly she's circling around in search of the belltower, but with an eye out for anything that moves.

Chaz hmmms as he feels the heat eminating from the back of the truck, not even putting his hand anywhere near it. He shakes his head and stumbles away from it, "No places to rest there for me," he says and sighs, moving towards the library. Seeing the jeep, he shakes his head and sighs, looking to start circling around the building slowly, as if looking for another way in. Smoke inhalation and flames likely rule the building, but he isn't ready to call the mission a wash just yet. "I had a cat once, but everytime I tried to give him a bath, the fur stuck to my tongue," he says and then hiccups, shambling around to the side of the library.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Scouting the library, likely no longer any sort of a safe haven, but seeking any survivors or payload. We need some way to put out the fire, and unless you want to start a bucket brigade, we need some ideas."

Circling the library, you notice that there are two small windows that presumably lead to the basement of the library. Both are barred and the glass long ago shattered. It's dark within, the moonlight nor the flickering flames able to penetrate the gloom. There's also a fire escape that leads up to the second and third floor of the Andrew Carnegie Library.

«Plot» Chaz says, "Going to do an investigation of the area around the windows, any traces of blood or similar?"

Church : The stairs do indeed lead up past the balcony and up to a padlocked door. In the harsh green of your lowlight, you see dried, bloody handprints smeared in two separate tracks running down the walls, down the stairs.

Seraf stops at the top of the stairs and scowls at what she finds. "…really?" With a sigh, she examines the padlock, as if she'll magically figure out how to open it. After a couple of moments, she leans against the wall and keeps an idle eye out down the stairs while she mumbles over her mic some more.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Looks like we're in the stone age, boys. Belltower's padlocked. See any keys down there, Viktor? I don't know shit about these old-ass locks."

Commlink-Chase> Viktor says, "…basement…gun, right? …the fraggin' thing!"

Chaz hmmms slowly, shaking his head as he looks at the windows and then the fire escape. "Ya lil' monkey-spanker," he mutters and growls at that. "Mat a moody baby doom a yam." He turns and looks back at the truck, frowning. "Burn, baby, burn, disco inferno," he offers, doing a few staying alive dance mooves.

Seraf furrows her brow a little at what comes through on the comm and starts back down the stairs at the same trot she came up them at, absentmindedly headed toward the central area in search of any kind of stairs leading down, meanwhile focusing mostly on her comm.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "I can try and drive the truck out of here, assuming its still functional."

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "You cutting out, Vik, or half-retarded? Gonna go check on him, Chaz."

Church : As Seraf follows the frantic trails of blood back down the stairs, her comm signal comes in a little bit clearer : «Repeat…ing out basement. Shoot…lock!» Somewhere out in the Warrens, something screams a shrill final note and dies.

Seraf pauses mid-step when it comes through clearer and turns around to head back up the stairs, grumbling at her mic as she goes. Once she's back up the stairs, she obliges by taking aim at the thing with her wee pistol (which happens to be a Fichetti Security 500a) and tries to shoot the damn thing off.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Okay, fine. But if it ricochets back in my face, you're paying my bills."

Seraf almost cringes away a little when she takes the shot, for fear of face-bullets…and it doesn't help anything that the first shot meets nothing but door. The second shot, however, takes the lock off, the *clunk* it makes when it hits the floor making her silencer a little less useful. That done, she moves up to slowly push the door open. Sure, it was padlocked, but anybody that paints the inside of a church with gore might also be just crazy enough to stay on the side of a padlocked room.

«Plot-Page» (To: Chaz) Viktor says, "The truck has taken a pretty heavy blow to the side, it's possible the engine or even the front axle has taken some damage. Closer inspection will tell."

Chaz mmmms as he walks back from the broken window, listening to the comms. He tilts his head as he inspects the car from a distance, grinning. "Sir, as this is Friday, it's my feeling that Saturday could occur officially as early as tomorrow," he says and chuckles, still playing up the drunk, just in case there are any survivors watching him. "Tell us a story, Mommy! Something 'bout bears and gold!" he offers and bites his lip, stepping closer towards the vehicle, heading towards the front of the cab to investigate the engine compartment.

Church : the door shudders and splinters. The padlock falls to the ground and begins to slinky down the stairs. WHUMP. WHUMP. WHUMP. As the door opens, cooler, fresher air begins to filter through the crack. Soft moonlight accompanies it.

Seraf crouches down when she sees the moonlight and proceeds in duckwalking, just in case somebody's looking at the window for some reason. Assuming what she's found /is/ the belltower, she surveys the room in detail to make sure nobody's being all hidey, then shuts the door behind herself and radios in while switching out for her rifle.

Seraf pages: >.> It IS the belltower, yeah?

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "In position, folks. Lemme know if you need some help down there, Chaz."

Chaz pops the hood of the truck open and nods slowly. "Ah, yes, I know that sound well. It is the beating of the old man's heart. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti," he mutters as he investigates the engine. He hmmms and shakes his head slightly, frowning as he starts to probe it deeper. "You will give all your secrets to me, for I am…. Conan… the Librarian."

Belltower : Welcome to the belltower. Moonlight filters down from the belfry, casting hundreds of shadows as it illuminates the ropes used to ring the bell, as well as a few crates a table, a chair and a few bottles of something. There's stairs around the outside wall that can lead you up to the open, where you can get a decent view of your surroundings. Despite the fresh air from above, it smells musty and old and your enhanced sense of smell detects wine residue in the bottle and old books in the crates. What kind of idiot stores books in large crates *upstairs*?

«Plot-Page» (To: Chaz) Viktor says, "Giving the engine another check, you make sure the axel's still straight and that the wheel is good to roll. On a hunch, you rummage deeper into the engine compartment, seeking the truck's computer access. Upon finding it, your suspicions are confirmed, the computer is thoroughly fragged by the impact, part of the frame bending and smashing it inward. But a car's a car and they did run before computers…"

Seraf glances up and around, takes a few sniffs, then promptly starts to climb the stairs in a hurry. After all; she did say she was in position. Not nice to lie! Once she gets to the top, she'll take a nice, long look around, taking a closer look at anything interesting via her rifle's scope.

Seraf focuses on the park, okay.

Belltower : From your vantage point, you see how pockmarked the park is with black burns, circular craters as well as bodies. Glancing over the bodies, you see that some of them are clad in dirty rags and street clothes and some in leathers, denim and metal. There's no pattern here except death.

Chaz hmmms as he pulls back from the engine after his inspection and nods. "Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology, Better than he was before. Better, stronger, faster," he says and smirks, closing the lid. "Autobots, roll out." And with that, he shambles on his way towards the drivers side of the truck, arms out in front of him, head lolled to the side, "Graaaaaiiiiins."

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Truck looks like it'll drive. Comp's out, mechanicals are good. Will try and start it up.""

Seraf hmfs at the sight of all the dead folks and eventually settles on Chaz and the surrounding area with occasional wider sweeps. If possible, she finds herself a seat, too; no reason to NOT be lazy when you're stuck in a tower.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "I see…dead people. Lots of dead people. But have at it, Chaz. I'll keep watch."

Chaz opens the door to the vehicle, the creaking sound of it echoing. He looks at it crossly and frowns. "Could we cease the incessant noise?! 'Tis such a pain behind the eyes!" He pauses and then looks inside the vehicle, seeing a dead body crumpled on the floor. He frowns at the sight of it, moving to lift it out of the truck. "Time for a changing of the guard… But change into what? I'm hoping for pink elephants on parade, or maybe some white unicorns," he offers, moving to set the kid on the ground, freeing up the seat for him to take over.

Time passes. The comm stays curiously quiet. The area stays quiet, except for the soft crackling of the flaming jeep at the other end of the park. It's strange, but you don't even hear the normal gunfire and raucous laughter of bloodthirsty gangers that typify the urban warzone of the Warrens.

Chaz settles into his place behind the driver's seat and reaches out to turn the key. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil…. For Banjo is with me," he says softly.

Nothing. The engine fails to turn over. The spark plug fails to spark. The truck emits a horrible squeal when the key is turned.

Chaz growls as he hears the squeal, smacking his fists on the dash. "I'll teach yer grandmother to suck eggs!" he cries out and shakes his head, going to open the door again, frowning. He looks down at the engine compartment through the windshield and sighs. "The doctor will see you now," he mutters, opening the door again.

Seraf fidgets in whatever seating position she's found, finding herself restless with the eerie quietness, yet lack of things moving to be shot. So, she entertains herself with her comm unit.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "The hell was that, Chaz? I didn't know you brought your mother along."

«Plot-Page» (To: Chaz) Viktor says, "Further perusal will show that the ignition is computer controlled for optimal engine performance! You're going to have to do something about that to get the truck running."

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz chuckles. "Will have to turn off the transducer next time, but yeah, looks like I'm going to have to bypass the truck's computer controls, unless we want to drag the trailer out of here."

Your comms crackle «….fuckin'…ies……….god…»>. Silence.

Seraf starts to hum an idle tune to herself while she watches all the nothing that's going on, still chattering away at her mic.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Yeah, we can't hear you, Vik. If you're getting shot at, say "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah" for a few seconds so we know that's what you mean. Otherwise, I'm staying where I am."

Chaz hmmms as he looks at the vehicle and shakes his head. "Bueller? Bueller?" he asks as he looks in at the engine, starting to reach inside. "Don't worry, this won't hurt me more than it will hurt you," he offers to no one in particular, as he goes about working on the wiring. Yaking a few leads out from the computer, he hmmmms. "Now, was it white to red, or white to blue? Maybe I should have told them I was colorblind?" he mutters as he connects a couple wires and then looks down at the engine again, this time pulling out a few wires and throwing them away. "They always gave me a bunch of spare parts when building my models as a kid," he says, "Too bad they never gave you model kits of models. Now that would be every kid's dream," he chuckles.

«Plot-Page» (To: Seraf) Viktor says, "As if very far away, you hear a pfft pfft pfft pfft sound. Meanwhile, you see Chaz popping the hood back open again, digging deeper into the truck's systems. Oh, go ahead and pose scanning around if you want to lower your TN a little ;)"

Seraf's restlessness soon gets enough that she can't suffice with just chattering away at her comm. Instead, she adjusts her position, seeing if she can get any more concealed and inobvious than she already is, then sets about a wider pattern of scanning, just in case the baddies don't magically pop out of the ground underneath Chaz.

«Plot-Page» (To: Seraf) Viktor says, "That's when you see one of the corpses draped over a bench reach out to push itself up. Stumbling into a sitting position, the head slowly turns from left to right."

"The hip bone's connected to the leg bone, the leg bone's connected to the foot bone, the foot bone's connected to the…." Chaz pauses and shakes his head, "What is the foot connected to?" It takes about fifteen minutes, but Chaz is finally finished, a few spare parts piled up behind him. He stands up, brushing some of the dirt away before closing the truck's hood. "See… nothing to worry about, I didn't hurt you," he offers and smirks, moving back towards the driver's side to try starting the truck again.

Click. The maglocks click shut.

RI NUH NUH NUH NUH! The engine tries to turn over desperately.

Seraf pauses and squints for a second in her scanning, ponders a second, and takes aim on the movement, figuring it's better to be safe than morally sound. After a second, she mumbles into her comm, then takes the shot. Then mumbles some more.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Dead guy's moving. …hit him, but I think he's still up."

Your bullet hurtles down from upon high, slamming into the person's chest, adding to the considerable amount of wounds already there. Blood and lung tissues blow out the back and splatter over the bench behind him. The human falls still again.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Correction: Not moving."

Chaz shakes his head and sighs, looking around at the vehicle. "Look, you were made to move, I was made to move you, so now… move," he says and frowns. At the comment from Seraf, he tilts his head, turning his transducer back on.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Scan the perimeter, I'll do the same, report any signs of life, then we'll figure out how to transport the package."

Seraf keeps scanning back and forth, back and forth, only pausing when she sees movement, and only long enough to make it not move anymore. When she sees a troll starting to stir, she pauses for another shot, still chattering away rather than taking the shooting of almost-dead people seriously.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "So these random people laying around are considered threats, right? 'cause I'm shooting anything that moves. You've got a troll off to one side. He's a hearty one. Still standing."

The large caliber bullet careens into the large metahuman's sternum, burrowing through bone, heart and skin. After taking the bullet like a champ, the slow meta pushes itself up to a crouch and finally to a standing position, orienting itself in the direction of the truck.

Over the comm «…again…basement looks….sort of ..ult! …»

Chaz hmmms and looks at the vehicle from the inside, shaking his head and frowns. "Looks like there's definately something going on here," he says, reviewing the interior. "Nothing up my sleeves, except my arms," he frowns and shakes his head, sighing. He goes to open the door, stepping outside to move back towards the engine.

Seraf debates for a moment before she takes another shot at the troll: after all, he could've been an innocent, trolly bystander that got screwed over in the crossfire. Nonetheless, she gets around to it eventually, but misses entirely. …though, she can always take solace in the fact that the shot probably ended up in another body sprawled out somewhere. …and maybe, if she's lucky, it was another not-really-dead person.

Chaz hmmms and looks at the vehicle from the inside, shaking his head and frowns. "Looks like there's definately something going on here," he says, reviewing the interior. "Nothing up my sleeves, except my arms," he frowns and shakes his head, sighing. He goes to open the door, finding that the doors are not opening and sighs. "Great, now I know what a sardine feels like."

Slowly, the troll makes its way through the play equipment toward the truck. The human leaning against the bench is crawling along the ground, also in the direction of the truck, pieces of his spinal chord jutting out of his back, useless legs dragging along the ground.

Seraf glances over toward crawly-spine-guy, but refocuses on the troll and takes one last shot before pushing up, re-slinging her rifle, and turning to the stairs. She pauses, though, before she goes anywhere, and goes to her comm once again.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Alright, Chaz, this sound is fucking bugging me. Can't help but think Vik's in trouble. I got the troll, you gonna be okay on your own?"

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "I can handle myself, yes. You go check on Vik."

Sizzling through the air, the man-killing bullet barrels into the ork's shoulder, exiting in a spray of rib chunks and intestines on the other end. The troll falls to its knees and leans forward, seemingly dying on all fours.

Chaz looks over the vehicle and hmmms, shaking his head. "Looks like I'm going to have to bypass the maglocks, trick them into the active state," he says and mmms, reaching into his coat to pull out his offensive weaponry, a Redline.

Church : The thumping grows louder. From the bottom of the stairs you see what appears to be lightning accompanied by rapid-fire pfft's. There's a crack of wood on flesh and the figure tears up the stairs towards you. "Fuggin' go!" Viktor shouts, gesturing to the top of the stairs. The elf pulls out a small, cylinder and brings it to his mouth. Pulling it away, he tosses it daintily into the prayer hall below before charging towards you up the stairs.

Seraf pauses as the noises gets louder, then blinks and turns tail when Vik comes shooting up the stairs. Even though she'd just come down them, she goes running back up the stairs, only stopping around the corner once she's past the once-padlocked door, at which point she peers down the stairs for a second, "The fuck, Vik? What're you running from?"

"GO!" the charging elf, his AK dancing on the sling at his back pushes Seraf with all his might back into the belfry. He rushes back to the door…

BOOOOM!

But is thrown on his ass, as a massive concussion wave bowls him over.

Seraf cringes and draws back from the doorway when the concussion blast knocks the dwarf on his ass, silently thanking the wall for saving her from a similar fate. However, since she's standing up, she takes the opportunity to close the damn door and, since she's assuming whatever it is that's out there is ridiculously dangerous, she runs over and tries to start pushing one of the crates of wine and/or books over toward the door, "Vik, help me out!"

Chaz mmms as he investigates the van, shaking his head as he finally tracks down the source of his target. "Well now, looks like they aren't teaching the right courses in school," he says as he begins to tinker with some of the wiring on the car's starter. "Red to orange, yellow to green, blue to indigo…" he says as he starts rewiring the started to the truck and then attempts the key again.

The elf groans on his back. "Frag me…" he flips over onto his stomach, the smoking hot AK clattering to the floor. Shakily, he regains his legs and stumbles over to Seraf, helping her push one of the heavy crates over to the door. Panting, he leans against the crate to catch his breath, looking at the woman, "Bad…drek…"

Seraf eyes the elf for a few moments, looking him up and down in search of horrible, intestine-exposing wounds, but then makes to reload her rifle while she's got a moment, "Yeah, that's real descriptive, but uh…do I need to be worried about something blowing this door up? Your comm was pretty much screwed the whole time you were down there." That said, she looks up the stairs absentmindedly, pondering how much trouble Chaz could have gotten himself into by now.

BAM! The plastiglass next to Chaz's face spiderwebs. A large troll, its eyes blood shot, pus and mucus running out of its ears and nose, is standing next to the truck. It rears back its fist for another strike as the truck's engine stutters.

Chaz jumps out of his seat at the sound of the troll fist smacking against the truck, which could be a good thing, as it allows him to lean away, turning his laser pistol towards the window and frowning. "Step back and maybe I can help you," he says, getting ready to squeeze the trigger.

"More crates," the elf says in between heaves. He pulls the goggles up onto his brow and jogs to the stack of crates. "You don't…wanna know…" ERRRGHHh, Viktor sets a crate in motion with a grunt, "trust me." The crate finds its place next to its sister and the elf falls back against them, sitting on the ground. "No explosives," he shakes his head, the effort looking quite difficult. He points back up to the roost, "Check on him…they're all over…"

BAAMM!!! The driver's side window becomes a mosaic of cracks and whatever filth was on the troll's fist. It doesn't respond, its eyes lolling back into its head. The huge club of a fist rears back again, ready to crash through the window…

Seraf obeys! She even gives a little salute, figuring Vik's got all the knowledge about what's trying to kill him, so he's the one to listen to. She mumbles into her comm once more and goes running up the stairs to resume her position and survey the park once more.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Hey, Chaz. You okay? I've got Viktor, he's alive and well."

The thing beats against the glass and frowns as Chaz pulls the trigger, zapping the thing with a chest shot, the glass melting where the beam hit it. He frowns, trying to figure out where he can move to, given as fire to one side, this troll thing to another and the rest being a truck.

You paged Seraf with 'The far bottom of the stairs.'.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Thought I heard Vik's garbled transmissions say something about a cult. Could explain these things, looking like reanimated undead."

A small crowd is slowly gathering at the truck. A few of the raggedy group, many of which displaying wounds, some grievous, kneel by the body that Chaz placed outside of the truck. Closer inspection shows the group tearing at the corpse.

The troll rears back as the beam of energy chastises him, the remnants of its clothes bursting into flames. That sends the troll into motion and it speedily moves in a direction away from the fire on its shoulder. Unable to comprehend the trouble its in, it thrashes until fire consumes its entire body. It shambles aimlessly trying to escape.

Seraf surveys the situation right quick once she's back in place and almost takes a shot at the troll when he bursts into flames and magically takes care of himself as far as she knows. So, she aims for the ones eating. Since they're just hanging out, she takes time to aim, squints a little, aaaaaand magically misses. Maybe she could tell the meal from the diners, but yeah.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Got some company downstairs, Viktor. I can hear it. That grenade wasn't enough, apparently."

Commlink-Chase> Viktor says, "Christ…"

At the bottom of the belltower, palms and fists begin to smack wetly against the flimsy, wooden door. "Shit shit shit…" the elf says, dropping his rifle and pushing the table up and ontop of the crates. He leans against the crates, adding his substantial bodyweight to the effort.

The crowd around the downed body proves to be too much for the food source. Breaking away, the group disbands, many of the shambling metahumans holding limbs, bones, organs or other chunks of gore. Some go without and those begin walking toward the front of the truck. One, an ork missing an arm makes it to the broken window and begins reaching inside with his intact arm.

Chaz glances out at the scene before him and shakes his head, his free hand moving to turn the key as he goes to start the truck. "Fortune favors the foolish," he says and goes to step on the gas as he hopes the vehicle starts up this time, what with the trouble he's in. The arm coming in the window for him. "There must have been something in that bakery's food."

RIIIIIIiiIIIiIII Nuh nuh nuh….not this time.

Seraf hums an idle tune to herself while she keeps on playing shooter-in-the-belltower while Chaz is on the ground getting zombie-attacked. When the ork starts reaching in the window, she swings her aim over to it and aims for a few moments, just sorta guessing where Chaz is inside, and then squeezes the trigger.

Were the rifle unsilenced, there might be some warning, but…well, that'd be to easy. Instead, the ork's head just abruptly decides to join the arm inside the truck, bits and pieces of brain, skull, eyebrow hair, and less-identifiable bits spraying all over Chaz while he tries to start the truck. Judging from the whizzing sound, there was a bullet somewhere in that spray, too; a bullet that juuust barely misses the elf.

Below Seraf, the pounding is becoming more insistent, punctuated every so often by an enormous WHAM!! Unable to trigger his wrist comm, Viktor shouts after Seraf takes her shot, "STATUS REPORT!" Viktor digs in with his heels, pressing against the crates with his back.

As the head falls into Chaz's lap and he is now wearing the remenants of the ork's remains, the elf gags, coughing lightly. "I think he went up my nose," he mutters, moving to push the remains out the hole in the window. "Com'on ya ol' jalopy, I've seen remote controled cars with more umph than you," He says, jamming his foot down and turning the key.

ReeeeEEEE Nuh nuh nuh……

….VRRROOOOOOM!!!

Seraf pops back up from her perch once again once she hears the engine rev, figuring Chaz can handle himself from there on, talking into her comm as she starts plodding down the stairs, once again reloading her rifle to make sure she's, at all times, full.

Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "Truck's started. Time to go!"

BA-BAM! BA-BAM BAM! Whatever's on the other side is beating a furious rhythm against the door. Viktor strains to hold the door shut, his boots leaving black marks against the floor.

Chaz nods his head as the truck starts, grinning evilly. "Good girl," he says and strokes the dash before beginning to pull the truck in reverse, apparently looking to get some distance to start taking this thing back onto the road. He tries to spot the church in the distance, make out where his companions are. He grins as he pulls the vehicle into drive mode and heads towards the church.

Seraf come plodding down the stairs as fast as she can without tripping herself and, rather than asking Vik questions or otherwise delaying, she just levels her rifle at the door and squeezes off a couple of shots. She's none too careful aiming, but she does aim a bit high, figuring whatever it is is tall, albeit down a stair or three (so not TOO high).

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "I'm going to position by the church to give you something to jump on, if your company is as impolite as mine."

A body rolls under the rear tires as Chaz maneuvers the truck. After clearing the front wheel, the female human begins dragging her useless, mangled legs towards the truck. The truck thumps repeatedly as bodies are knocked away. After a few minutes, Chaz clears the park, finding the church easily…as there is another gaggle of beasts stumbling out of the front doors of the church. Some of them smolder, giving the air a hint of barbecued metahuman.

Inside the Church, Viktor strains against the crates. His eyes go wide as the woman levels her rifle barrel at the door, but the shots pass harmlessly through the door and the pressure lessens somewhat. The elf is about to grab his assault rifle when the slamming starts again in earnest and he thrusts his body against the barricade once more. "Darlin," he pants with the effort, "we gotta ride 'r what?"

Chaz shakes his head and sighs as he watches all the bodies being moved aside by the truck. He pulls around the various obstacles of urban warfare, just shivering as he does. "Okay, there's got to be a logical explanation for this… Or I'm going to be seeking some red shoes." And with that, he sees the crowd collecting outside the church and frowns. "May not be as easy as I thought."

Seraf puts on a big grin when the slamming lets up, but it vanishes the second it's renewed. At Viktor's question, she hesitates for a second, but then nods once, "We better. C'mon." That said, she puts one more shot into the door and bolts for the stairs, hoping to slow down the imminent death on the other side of the door long enough for them to escape. As she runs, she slings her rifle and shouts into her comm, "Hope you're ready, Chaz, 'cause we're comin!"

Watching the woman climb back up to the top of the tower, Viktor realizes the futility of his task. Leaping forward, he grabs the AK in the time granted him by her shot. Flipping to full auto, he pours silent but deadly fire into the door, splinters and backsplattered blood misting through the messed up door. A hand crashes through the door. Viktor looks up at the woman while changing mags. He shouts, "Jump, kid!" before he lets fly another thirty bullets at the beasts beyond the door.

Chaz moves the vehicle so that he can clear out the crowd, angling it to give his churchgoing friends something to land on. "I always knew religion was a dangerous thing," he offers to the emptiness of the compartment, just hoping to be in the right place at the right time. Being the cavalry is nice.

The large, noisy, shiny object trundling up to the church grabs the attention of the creatures and the small horde begins to flock towards the truck. Chaz can see all the drooling, mutilated, boil covered faces locked into looks of eternal hunger and suffering as they begin to swarm the truck.

Chaz swings the truck through some more of the figures, pulling to a stop in front of the window. Not the greatest position, but better than them landing in the mob. He keeps the engine running, knowing how much trouble he had to get this started. Feet ready to drive away, he glances up at the window, waiting for his companions to take their plunge.

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Watch that first step, it's a doozy."

Seraf keeps running while Viktor holds the line and, when she sees a rectangle that looks like the top of a truck, she doesn't even stop running; she just launches herself into a jump, hits the truck, and rolls with her momentum. Once she manages to get up on her knees, she punches her comm again, and then goes for her pistol to ward the metas off of Chaz until Vik arrives.
Commlink-Seraf> Seraf says, "I'm aboard. C'mon, Viktor!"

The door begins splintering and cracking, chunks succumbing to the metahuman's strength. A scrappy looking arm covered in cuts and oozing blood and pus quests into the room, grabbing at whatever it can get. "Alright, you diseased fucks," Viktor slings the AK and pulls out a WP grenade. Pulling the pin, he holds the fuse shut. "Merry Christmas!" The elf hands the grenade to the creature, the fuse igniting within the grenade as the beast withdraws its prize. Like elven lightning, Viktor tears up the stairs.

Three things happen at once :
1.The door bursts open.
2.Viktor jumps.
3.The grenade explodes.

The tongues of flame lick Viktor's back, pressurized air pushing him further than he intended. Seraf can see the look of surprise on his face as the elf overshoots.

Slap, he gets one hand on the edge of the trailer. Beneath him, ragged, festering hands clutch at his legs.

Seraf tilts her head back…and back…and back until she doesn't have anymore neck to accommodate how far off target the elf lands. After a quick slap to the top of the truck, she spins around and steps over to throw some fairly aimless bullets down at the sources of those festering hands, hoping Vik can pull himself up while bullets go by and the truck likely begins to move.

With a scream, Viktor pulls himself up and flops on top of the truck, clutching the arm that saved him. The arm flops, unnaturally, out of its socket and the elf grits his teeth with the pain.

The putrid smell of the diseased and decaying fills the air. The truck begins rocking as the creatures come a knocking. Viktor reaches up to slide a heavy pistol from his rib holster. He grunts, barely audible amid the commotion, and pulls himself to the side and begins firing shots down into the alarmingly large crowd. They've almost entirely surrounded the truck now, with the exception of the back…

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "This is your captain speaking. Fasten your seatbelts, put your tray tables up and above all… Please keep your arms and legs inside the ride until the vehicle has come to a complete stop, and thank you for riding Air Jalopy."

Chaz sends his thoughts over the comm as he presses his foot down on the gas to pull the truck away from the church and back out onto the road and hopefully away from all of this mess. Of course, as he does, he bumps into a few of the bodies that were massing outside, causing the truck to lose contron and ram against the church, the driver's side of the vehicle smacking against it.

Seraf gives a little yelp of sorts when she feels the truck hit the church and falls purposefully on her ass to steady herself in case of further driver problems. From there, she picks with her pistol at any zombie that threatens to actually grab someone, meanwhile shouting at Chaz, "Enough with the drunk act already, Chaz! Let's GO!"

Commlink-Rooks> Chaz says, "Sorry, thought I saw someone I knew. Now I don't gotta repay that ten nuyen."

The crash nearly flips Viktor over. The elf slams the pistol into the top of the truck to keep himself on top of the thing. The comm buzzes in his ear…more witticisms at a time when they needed to be elsewhere. "I SWEAR TO GOD ALMIGHTY CHAZ IF YOU DONT MOVE THIS FUCKING THING…"

Chaz pulls the truck into reverse and then puts it back into drive, heading away from this deadened land, focusing on leaving the rest of it all behind as he gets back on the road. "Ok, now this just leaves three questions," he mutters to himself, "First, what the hell is the cargo? Second, who wanted it so bad to attack the truck for it? And third, what the hell were those things," he mutters as he keeps driving the truck, focusing on the road lest another jeep miraculosly appear from somewhere.

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