Montreal by Nyght » Places

         Setting: 1246O Rue Jasmin, Montreal, Canada
Date + Time: 4.19.2kSeventeen 1O:13 P

The trip was short one, passing without so much as a sound, as they turned on to the property and up to the gate. Touching her hand to press flat against a panel, temporarily suspending the current operational status of her security system, the gate opening in front of them. Samantha's eyes went wide, if only for an instant. "Welcome to my place." Yumi greeted, sliding the car into her garage, next to her technologically advanced high performance red racing motorcycle of unspecified make and model with ceramic, twin rotor, two wheel disk drive that she liberated from the Zaibatsu. "Ya hafta be shittin' me, this is yo place?" The girl asked, not sure if all of this was some kind of really sick joke. "Yeah." The woman answered. "No sudden movements, don't try to run. My security in't a fuckin' joke. Other than that, you're free to do what you like." Yumi stopped herself, remembering this girl is an artist. "No spray paintin' my house, any part of it, or anything in it." She explained, getting the point across. The girl snatched her staff, her bag, before speeding off in a rush, dashing through the house.

Glancing to the side at the nigh lifeless form of Brynjolf, the woman thought awhile, lighting a cigarette out of habit placing her rifle on the wall of her workshop. Walking back over to the the shifter, steadily lifting him up from the car, exiting the garage and moving through the inside the house, to one of spare rooms she kept reserved for guests. Laying the man spread out on his back across the open bed, she could hear the girl prowling around wildly through her house.

The Asian was finally able to get a decent look at the man's injuries, where she noticed that even though bleeding had stopped, it was turning black. "While I find the effects of silver on your kind to be fascinating, this looks infected." Yumi spouted, sounding coldly inhuman, in that same moment, the girl, Samantha, appeared stopping outside the do to see what was going on. "Eh, lady, what's 'is dysfunction?" Samantha spat out the words inquisitively in her own simple form of street slang. "The name's Yumi. No need to worry girl, I'm not the wicked bitch of the east." she said, reaching for her messenger pack, before starting the explanation. "He's one of the sunset people, or at least that's what we call them in the east, where I'm from." Samantha stepped in to the room, closing the distant gap that lie between the three of them. "Apart from a severe reaction to silver, there in't much more I know about 'em."

The girl approached the incapacitated Brynjolf cautiously, gazing at him for a time, looking at the fella with a good once over while the woman cleaned the wound. "Eh, 'e looks like shit." The girl remarked, stating the obvious, at the same time she was pointing to the the hole in his side. "Indeed." Yumi said, with a quip of a response. Samantha leaned over at the side of the man's face, speaking in his ear. "Eh, mate. This don't mean I'm cool wit ya or nothin', ya did do me somethin', so I guess I owe ya." The girl spit in her palm, adjusting her position as she slid her tongue over the opening in his side, spitting once more inside him. "Now we even, aight." The girl stood upright, wiping blood from her mouth after she finished.

The Asian just dismissed the whole scene entirely and continued, knowing she would make time to learn more about the peculiar girl later. Applying dried rehmannia laced with ground salvia powder over the tear in Brynjolf's side, then carefully piercing him in specific areas across his form with titanium acupuncture needles, ritually purifying each one with nigori.
-
Approximately two hours and thirty minutes passed, when Brynjolf eventually regained consciousness, opening his eyes to see Yumi sitting reclined with legs crossed, quietly rolling the silver coin over her fingers. "Welcome to Montreal, Brynjolf." Her attention fixating solely on him as she spoke the words. "Since it seems you have recovered, rather nicely I might add, thanks in part to the girl." She gave him a smile, though something was off about it, a little unsettling in nature. "Here, you are a guest, in my sanctuary. So many questions, and I would have answers."

"Are you friend, or enemy?" She began, as she phrased the question. "Acquaintance." Brynjolf stated calmly. "Fair enough. So, then, what brings you to Montreal?" Yumi wondered, firing off her next question. "War. We didn't fair very well. It was almost a total defeat." he said in the same tone, looking at her eyes. Suddenly curious of this war he spoke of, ultimately deciding it was a story for another time. "What is your interest in the girl, Samantha?" Her voice went quiet. "A charity to a supernatural other than the Wyrm. It wasn't their fight, but I must ask you. . . What interest do you have in a no tail kitsune cub?" Tilting her head as she listened to the question. "I am paid to do a thing, it is a job, and usually nothing more." Stopping for a moment, pinning the coin between two fingers. "It in't usually this complicated, so now I have become more than just a little interested, which makes me want to get personally involved and find out why so many appear to be after the girl."

         Setting: Streets of Montreal, Canada
Date + Time: 4.19.2kSeventeen 9:36 P

Yumi easily recovered from being thrown aside, no stranger to fights, though it was more of a poor excuse of a skirmish in her opinion. "These gaijin don't know what a 'real', fight is." She whispered to herself, slowly walking toward them while switching out the clips in her firearms, eyes locking on the girl as she pointed the business end of a modified nine at her. "You. Don't move." The Asian said, her voice possessing a sort of commanding authority. "Hey!" The girl shot back with a growl following her words. "You ain't my Ma." Samantha shouted. "What you goin' to do if I run?" Her voice went low, as if challenging the woman. Yumi narrowed her eyes at the girl. "I've been tracking you for three days, been following your every move for the last fifteen hours and thirty six minutes."

Coming to stand face to face with the girl, Yumi removed the glove from her left hand, gently pushing up with the tip of her finger under Samantha's chin activating her 'steal intelligence' protocol. "Now. There is no place in this world you can go where I will not find you. So, go ahead and try kid, there are worse things than death, and well, I can do them all." Invoking 'paprika inception', a flickering montage of imagery ripped through the girl's mind. Surreal visions so prophetic in essence, as piece by piece, everyone she was close to or cared for was either destroyed or erased from existence. Samantha went pale, suddenly fell silent, thinking of her crew, of the only kin she had ever known.

Shifting her vision to the man leaning heavily against the wall, side stepping in his direction, squaring off with him. "As for you, mongrel. . ." Yumi trolled, provoking the fella as he snarled, spitting in her face with a smirk. "Call me a mongrel, one more time." The woman paused, expecting such a predictably savage reaction, waiting for him to finish as she wiped her face. "You're so spent passed your limit, in the state your in, any one of these Kinjin running monkeys could put you down." Staring at him for awhile, letting the reality of the situation hit him. "Are you hurt, or just injured." She asked, after getting no response, just a pissed off stare. She continued, triggering life and matter senses prior to scanning the poor bastard. There it was, lodged in the wound, a small mass of silver buried in his side. Forcing the flat of her right hand into his mouth. "Bite down, this in't goin' to feel like sunshine and rainbows and shyt." In no position to resist or refuse, he did as she said, applying light pressure across her hand.

Yumi swiftly stabbed him, jamming two fingers deep into his side, guided by her sight, as she probed the wound. His teeth tightened down like a bear trap, drawing blood that soaked her glove, eventually dripping down across her wrist, she felt no pain and never moved even in the slightest. Eventually, the pain had pushed him to the edge, causing him to black out, dropping to the pavement, completely unconscious. The woman never lost her focus, temporarily converting silver to steel through use of 'state alchemist', preceding the manipulation of forces to magnetically extract the object, shifting back into silver only after it had been removed, pocketing it in the form of a blank silver dollar size coin in her palm.

"I already know 'what' you are, time to find out 'who' you are." Picking through his pockets for some sort of information or identification, removing any weapons or contraband the fella carried for the time being. Locating his wallet in the back pocket, flipping through it till she found a license matching him. "Brynjolf Keeger, lets see what kind of shyt I can find on you." Grinning somewhat wickedly, while establishing a 'secure connection' through several surrounding wifi networks. In seconds, she managed to pull every bit of digital information that potentially existed on him, including financial status, employment history, criminal records, medical files, list of residential addresses, social network profiles, known alias', contacts, associates, family.

Turning back to check on the girl, Samantha, reaching in her pocket for her phone. "I need transportation, something low profile, now." Pulling the girl by the wrist, Yumi looked her over. "Are you damaged?" The girl hesitated, only shook her head, still a little wary of her.

Sometime later, a pitch black 2kSeventeen Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat stealthily pulled up to their location, when an unassuming, average looking young man in a monochromatic black suit stepped out and walked up to her. "Put the fella in the car, then go clean up this shyt show, and the remains of the two leeches at the corner down the street." Looking at the girl, standing at the driver's side as if waiting for something. "You goin' to get in, or what?" Samantha, saying nothing, took her place sitting in shotty.

         He ran. Never one to turn away from a fight yet he needed to run.

"...Brynjolf..."

He bared his teeth but continued to run. He had to. It was all he could do to stay upright. He clutched the wound that had penetrated into his side. Even in homid form, it still burned.

^Silver...^

The attack on New York City began in the best way that it could. But no one could have predicted the actual Banes showing with more than just Banelings.

"...Brynjolf... Brynjolf..."

"Go fuck yourselves," Bryn breathed.

Black Spirals... they had come from the Umbra. And now they were chasing him. While the Get of Fenris relished in battle, Bryn knew that, once he had been separated from Blackjack, his silver wound would prevent him from finishing them off. He had to run, to draw them away.

"...We're coming... Brynjolf..."

He saw the shimmering veil before him. And just as he saw it, he felt the shadows pass over him. The claws reached out.

Bryn jumped forward, penetrating the veil of light.

Here, the Gauntlet was strong but he simply brushed it aside. Channeling the powers of Gaia, he finally burst out of the Umbra and into...

A door. He slammed into it, sending new pain through his body.

"Fuck..." he gasped. He grabbed the handle and opened it.

He saw an old factory before him. Cigarette butts lay all over the floor and some windows were shattered. The air was a bit nippy.

He quickly found a door that led out, holding his left side. From the feel of it, a bit of silver was still in there.

"Uh, yo! Who the fuck are you?"

Bryn turned around to see three teenagers, two boys and one girl. Night time had set in a long time ago and judging from the accents, he was in Canada somewhere. Not knowing how long he had, Bryn popped his gift to Sense Wyrm around him.

Brynjolf froze. The two men read incurable taint. A growl rose in his chest then into his throat.

The two smiled and bared their fangs as they realized what he was. "Oi, we got ourselves a keener mutt. Let's say you and me drain him right -"

He never finished. A softball - sized hole sprouted from this one's chest, promptly making his body begin to mummify. Since he didn't ash, that meant he was still relatively young for a vamp. Which meant...

Bryn reached into his jacket faster than humanly possible, his rage and anger adding to his reflexes and speed. The Colt .45 revolver came free and spat once, shattering the brain cavity of the second with a twitch of his arm. As the gunsmoke cleared, he grimaced. Blood began to flow freely from his left side through his fingers, the wound disturbed by sudden action.

"Fuck," he gasped. He then looked towards the girl and looked at her hard. She was cowering but in the way he would expect. Instead of staring at the obviously previously dead - now made permanently dead corpses, she was staring at him.

She was not freaking out at the vamps, which meant experience. And experience meant...

"What do leeches want with you?" He grunted.

"I... I don't..."

"Don't try to bullshit me kid," he stopped her. "You are a supernatural, now what do the leeches want with you. Better question, who and what are you?"

He had holstered his revolver then. She decided to make her move. The punch landed squarely on his cheek but he felt nothing. He grabbed her leg as it came up to kick his genitals, wincing at his wound. Flexing his muscles, he flipped her head over heels. As she landed in a grunt, he tried again.

"Nice try, kid. You definitely got fire in your belly, I will give you that. Now what -"

It was Bryn's turn to not finish as his Gift flared in response to three very powerful Wyrm taints coming close. Since he did not see them, he guessed they were on the Penumbra, the closest mirror of the real world to the spirit world.

He grabbed her. "Start running," he growled, shoving her forward. Side by side they ran, weaving through alleys and streets and buildings. Somewhere along the line, he heard the footfalls of someone following.

Winded, wounded, and realizing that a Spiral would probably kill the supernatural, he decided this would be his stand. He turned and drew his revolver as a voice rang out.

"Friend, or enemy?" Stated the person flatly, an Asian looking woman, beautiful but now an enemy from the twin guns sliding from holsters to level them at Bryn.

He cocked his hammer.

A second passed. Then another. The woman raised her guns, taking a less threatening stance. "You're wounded," she said in the same tone.

"What do we have for her, Johnny?" He growled.

"What is your interest in Samantha?" She asked bluntly.

"Niece of mine, was getting jumped by a gang," he replied.

"Bullshit," the black Korean girl said.

"Shut up," he replied, eliciting an actual feral growl from Samantha. "Easy, cub. The grown ups are talking. What is your interest in her?"

She opened her mouth to reply when he saw it. The smiling face of a Spiral. Brynjolf pulled the trigger.

The scream that emitted from a silver bullet digging into a Crinos Spiral's skull shredded their ears as the other two came through a window behind the Asian woman. Bryn did not think, he reacted.

The Get of Fenris pushed Samantha back against a wall as he felt his rage swell. The pain in his side grew as well, causing him to roar as he assumed his battle form.

The woman did not waste time, emptying the pistols completely as she whipped around with cold, machine precision. As the mags clicked empty in the guns, she leaped into the air and struck with a kick. The Spiral easily caught her and flung her some feet away. She rolled to absorb the force of hitting the ground

That one was the first to feel the silvered claws of Breaks - The - Line, ripping ribbons of ichor and blood outwards in a spray. His silver wound burned beyond the point of agony as he sank his teeth into the Spiral's neck.

He ripped the life out of the cursed White Howler. Time was not had to relish in the feel of battle; the last one charged him, caving part of the wall in with his attack.

Bryn roared in pain as the silver in him both was disturbed and continued to burn. "Poor little Get, don't worry... we will have your little tart soon," cackled the Spiral in a series of growls and grunts. "And who would have thought you would be brought low by a simple blade?"

He felt the control snap. With a howl of death, fury, and pain, he dug his claws into the Crinos before him, pushing him off and allowing Bryn to follow up with several swiping claw attacks. A claw bounced off the beserking Get as he sliced into the Spiral's right knee, bringing it down.

Breaks - The - Line stood over the Spiral. He was not finished... no, not yet. He would have the final kill.

His left claw grabbed the lower jaw, his right grabbing the top muzzle. He then pulled with all his might. He let his pain fuel his rage, having it grow and grow and grow... He felt as if his blood was going to boil out of his skin and his wound was the sun itself.

Finally, with the most sickening, gory - sounding crack, Bryn ripped the head in half and partially down the neck and torso. His howl split the air even as the Spiral was split in the same way.

It was finally over. The beserker rage finally subsided and he shift back, collapsing against the ruined wall.

"Ah... hah..." he gasped in pain. "Hah.... ugh, I told you to go fuck yourself... hah... ah... should have... listened..."

         Setting: Purgatory Nightclub, Montreal Canada
Date + Time: 4.16.2kSeventeen 6:58 P

"Its almost time." she said hushedly speaking to no one in particular, idly tapping at the keys of the hackbook. She could feel the hungry eyed stares of the 'suckfaces' on her, after all, this was a vampire city. The last traces of light were fading as the sky grew darker, becoming twilight. "The Witching Hour." she thought to herself. Finishing what was left of the barely warm, weak coffee before she moved, rising to stand from her seat, packing the technocratic device in the messenger pack on her back. Crossing the street, the fanatical gaze of the vampire's as they crept from their dark hollows that seemed to follow, stalking her every move.

Stepping toward the entrance to Purgatory, a man, tall with a crooked stance, stopped her in her tracks. "We're not taking in strays." The man reached toward her shoulder, when she flashed a death stare that could put a man on his knees from a hundred paces. "I look like a stray to you." In a flickering blur of motion, she had the barrel of a modified nine inconspicuously pressed squarely against his chest. "I assume my identification is sufficiently adequate." A single step forward, placing her face close enough the warmth of her exhaled breath could be felt on the bouncer's face as he backed down, oddly cowed by such a small woman's sheer force of will. "I figured as much." She almost laughed, holstering the firearm back to its position on her left thigh. 'Pathetic.' She commented mentally to herself, that the city of Montreal had been siezed by walking leeches, eventually making her way inside.

Cutting through the crowded mass where all manner of things that creep and crawl in the night gathered, coming up to the bar, the transcendant ambience of the music that echoed. "One, Bloody Nightmare." She shouted to the bar back, dropping a ten CAD note on the counter where she stood, waiting for her contact to show up.

'7:11 P' The time read, having accessed the ADEI in her mind. A shadowy, unremarkable form of a man appeared aside her, the type of person you would forget just five minutes after having met them. A sideways glance was all the attention she offered the fella. "Atleast you aren't in the habit of keeping me waiting, like the others." She shot quickly from her lips. "So what little piece of business do you have for me?" The spook, placing a hand inside their coat, causing her to instinctively react with a tightening grip on one of the wakizashi on her back, when he produced a simple black envelope.

"This is high priority, most of the intel is classified and compartmentalized." The man's rough, rasping tone, along with an obvious superiority complex, to the disrespectful manner in which he spoke to her, only served to mildly irritate her. "Inside you will find only relevant details, the rest is need to know, and you, little one, do not need to know." Narrowing her eyes toward him. "I will do your dirty little deed, however, if I see you, or you ever speak to me like that again." She closed the gap between them, leaning slowly in to his ear, lacing the fingers of her left hand across the back of his neck. "You, you son of a bitch, I would definetely take care of personally, on principle." She whispered softly, taking the file.

The thoughts of a complete year of torture at her hands, both filled and flooded his mind, as he nearly tripped, shuffling and scrambling as he tried to make it toward the exit.

Quietly leaving through the rear staff door of the nightclub, as if she had never been there at all, emptied the envelope revealing a specialized flash stick as well as a metallic qr code card as they fell in to her palm. Concentrating as she went about executing commands to the device in her head, securely linking access to several localized wifi connections, she uploaded the card data in torrents, transferring the specified finances to her expense accounts. Simultaneously, scanning the flash stick to make sure it was clean before downloading the dossier on a one:

'Krosswait, Samantha E.', born Seongnam, South Korea, 1954, listed physical address in Foxcroft, ME. Last known location: Bay City, MI en route to US CN border.