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Bastien Delacourt

"Fuck off before I bite your throat off."

0 · 255 views · located in Atlas

a character in “The Aegis Program”, as played by therealmcdreamy

Description

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So begins...

Bastien Delacourt's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgana Ishida Character Portrait: Emeris Mikaelson Character Portrait: Cameron Jensen Character Portrait: Kieran Gallagher Character Portrait: Bastien Delacourt Character Portrait:
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Bastien Delacourt
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Anti-Hero | Drake | #360B0B
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Emeris Mikaelson
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Anti-Hero | Isimir | #8e9091
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This is such a fucking drag… Bash hated these kinds of missions. They always drag out for so long. Stuck on a rooftop instead of just getting this shit over and done with. He’s supposed to be Mr. Clean-Up missions. Aegis is only supposed to send him out when they feel like killing a lot of people or they wanna borrow his nose for some douchebag that’s difficult to find. But of course they had to drag him this instead of letting him beat the party. God forbid he’d want to go be at the fancy part and finally get to show off how amazing he looks in a suit to Ada. Not like he wanted to spend time with his girlfriend or anything. He’s just a dog obeying commands.

"You know how ansty I get whenever you leave me alone, especially when you leave me alone with him!" For most of the conversation, Bash had been tuning them out, until Isimir’s comment. You little shit..

Bash threw up his hands in defiance. ”I haven’t even done anything yet!” Sure he was doing a bit of moping but what else is there to do as a vampire? It’s not like they were letting him get any blood right now. Even if he was starving. Isimir and Reaper were bickering again. He wasn’t entirely listening. He may have super hearing but he also had a tendency to super drown out any time those two started fighting like an old married couple.

"Drakey...I think you're gonna wanna take a look at this..."

Oh god, what now…

"Mommy...Sorry...Mommy...Sorry, I mean Mommy, sorry-" Isimir was mumbling again. Instead of trying to understand the ramblings, he simply walked over to whatever the hell they were so fixated about until he over heard the words femme fatales and his vampiric sight found the targets.

”Great…” They weren’t anything to look at. Not for Bash at least. Nothing compared to Ada. Or Ris of course. Specifically when they were Ris. Isimir was more like his murdering soul mate. Far different from a bromance.

Variant pitched in on the comms next. “Think Drakey’s spoken for Isimir, you trying to get him in trouble?” Bash did his best to hold back a chuckle. He’s supposed to be Drake, the brooding melodramatic vampire with a penchant for overdramatic killings. But Bash also could never pass up an opportunity to be cheeky with Cameron. ”Is that a hint of jealousy I detect, darlin?”

Everyone was moved into positions except Drake and Isimir and Drake was getting particularly ansty now. He didn’t like being trapped on the roof. He didn’t like waiting. He certainly didn’t like how hungry he was and the fact that he was still being denied the full course meal below. Would something just happen already so he can feast and get back to his girlfriend?

Isimir had handed the sniper to Drake as he made his way over to peer through the scope, crouching low as they peered down from their advantage point. When they heard Variant's voice crackle through the ear-piece they couldn't help but chuckle, "What? Me?" they gestured with their trademark flamboyancy, "Never." Isimir finished before taking the rifle back from Drake.

They let out a soft sigh, resting the rifle on their knee with one hand, the other kept them balanced on the roof. Looking back at Drake, "Trust me, bud. I'm getting too antsy just sitting up here and doing nothing-" that was when the first gunshot echoed from down below. Before multiple shots went off in a macabre cocaphany. Isimir looked back down through the scope of the rifle, multiple masked figures dressed in complete black seemingly appeared out of nowhere, all wielding various guns at their disposal.

"Well, looks like it's showtime, Drakey. Let's do this, brother." their tone was a bit too excitable as they withdrew two of their own pistols from their holsters by their sides. "Age before Beauty."

The echo of the gunshots disoriented Drake for a moment. Vamp hearing wasn’t without its painful drawbacks. As soon as he recuperated, Drake was by Isimir’s side in an instant. He scoffed at their comment and gave a little bow as he gestured for Isimir to go first, ”By all means, grandpa.” He masked his french accent with a southern drawl. It just made him end up sounding Creole really but it worked for what he needed. Can’t make it too obvious to the public that Bash is a vampire… Sort of.

A familiar voice pitched in over the comms, ”Alright, hooligans… Let’s get this party started.” Bruce, Drake’s mentor. She’d been hidden amongst the guests. As much as Drake wanted to immediately jump into ripping people’s throats out, he still needed to wait for Bruce’s approval.

Even with the mask, it was clear that Isimir gave Drake a quizzical look initially. Before a chuckle sounded, "About time you respected your elders!"they exclaimed, before turning to look through the stained glass skylight. Pity it had to break. Without another moment's hesitation, Isimir slammed their elbow into the glass, shattering it within seconds. All too easily vaulting themself over the small side of what remained of the window from above, Isimir plummeted down below. Only being stopped as their legs collided with one of the masked goon's with an auto-rifle.

"Thanks for breaking my fall!" they exclaimed all too excitedly, "Could have been a better crash landing, I suppose." they mused for another moment. Quickly eyeing two other figures across the room, with ample ease and precision, Isimir proceeded to take out both of them with single headshots. Before scampering off behind one of the many pillars that aligned the main room they found themself in. It would only hold for a few minutes, but at least they had something to shield themself from the gunfire. "Charon, Wiccan, and Variant, on your marks, laddies. My sensors are picking up multiple unaccounted for folks, let's get 'em so we can bounce, huh?" they chuckled, "I've always hated museums..."

Drake gave Isimir a headstart on jumping the gunmen. Vamp speed and all. Gotta give the little guy a fair chance. Once he felt like it had been long enough, Drake followed in pursuit. He leapt down from the building and flitted into the museum sinking his fangs into the first gunman he found. He was feeling much better already.

He moved onto the next man while Bruce glided through the room covering his back with her dual pistols. Bullets just happen to miss their target whenever aimed at her. He’d just finish tearing through another man’s throat with his teeth when two gunmen decided to try and flank him. Drake smirked as he grabbed them both by the throat. He grinned to reveal his fangs and was about to feed when Bruce stopped him.

Don’t overindulge tonight.”Drake responded by using his strength to crush their throats instead. It wasn’t as fun this way but he couldn’t risk going feral vampire tonight. Maybe another night. He decided to move onto a more ‘supportive’ role for the team. Covering his teams backsides since he could get to them fastest and picking off the stragglers.




Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgana Ishida Character Portrait: Emeris Mikaelson Character Portrait: Lucille Simon Character Portrait: Ada Forrest Character Portrait: Mikey Santo Character Portrait: Clarence Lawless
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bella clayton.
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outfit. sentinel. #772222.
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xxx the sun's starting to light up
xxx when we're walking home
xxx tired little laugh, gold lie promises
xxx we'll always win at this

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Mikey didn’t exactly tell them to go back to their stations, but Bella presumed that’s what they were supposed to do. So she made her way back down to the party, marvelling as she found herself still able to tap into the other’s thoughts over the increased distance. Mikey’s were still a little slow and groggy after the fight. Leo was… well, Bella had learned the hard way before not to try and listen to Leo’s thoughts for too long. And then there was Kit, being as brilliant as ever. His invention really was great. When Mikey spoke over her comms to ask the heroes to get back in position, Bella decided to try out the device a little more. Instead of speaking aloud, she telepathically replied, “You got it, boss!”

She meant to ask if it had worked, even though she had complete faith that it would have done. And then she got to the main party, and the noise there wiped out all of her own thoughts. She could hear everybody. Not just the heroes wearing the matching earpieces. Everybody. And the noise was… overwhelming. Immediately, Bella felt like she was going to throw up. She couldn’t abandon the mission though. She had to persevere. It would get easier once she got used to it, she told herself. She tried and failed to force a smile onto her face, and instead settled for just not looking like she was about to throw up and then pass out. Pain was beginning to seep into her temples, but she just snagged a glass of water from a passing waiter and downed it in the hope that might help.

It didn’t help. She found herself drifting aimlessly around the room, trying to find a spot that was less loud than others. She found herself too close to the stage at one point; the worst mistake she’d made so far that night. Luci’s thoughts were as clear as Kit’s had been. One name kept cropping up, along with a face that Luci was looking for, and neither belonged to Bella. The pain in her head threatened to seep into her chest, and so she made a beeline for the far side of the room. She wanted to leave, but wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let her team down. If more bad guys showed up and she wasn’t there to help, she’d never forgive herself. She hadn’t been able to help Page, she wouldn’t let herself be unable to help everyone else.

She tucked herself into a quiet corner, somewhere where things weren’t quite as loud, and glanced at her phone. It was going to be a long night, she knew it already.




kieran gallagher.
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outfit. mask charon. #757576.
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xxx the sun's starting to light up
xxx when we're walking home
xxx tired little laugh, gold lie promises
xxx we'll always win at this

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Hearing Cameron’s voice over the comms was a welcome sound. His comment about Kieran’s hair looking good just made him smile. “I would like to add for the record that I would bet my apartment on the fact that Variant is also looking damn fine today,” he replied. But before anyone else could berate them for using their comms to flirt, black-clad figures filled the room below them. Kieran swore, ducking behind the statue he was hiding behind as gunshots broke out. Chills ran down his spine as the stench of death filled the air. Why couldn’t he have just been assigned to the other party?

“Hey! Sir Percival!” He hissed.
“Young knight!”
“You wanna go slay some witches?” He asked. The ghost’s face positively lit up with delight. “Go slay some witches!” The ghost solidified into something resembling a human, a sword like the one in the case beside Kieran appearing in his hands. Sir Percival raised the sword and leaped from the balcony, running one of the black-clad figures through. He apparently did not consider Kieran himself a witch then, something that Kieran had taken a gamble on. None of his ghosts had tried to kill him yet, but he felt like it was a matter of time. He shot one more glance at the sword in the case beside him, decided it wasn’t worth a complaint from museum security, and instead just drew his knife. He glanced over the balcony and at the scene below, briefly considered his options, and decided to take the stairs. He, regretfully, wasn’t as indestructible as Ris or Bash.

He made a sprint for the side stairs, digging down deep as he did so. Ghosts were the better option here, he figured. But before he could actually summon any of them, he needed to get to safety. Somewhere nearby, but with good cover. But as he got to the bottom of the stairs, he was met with a barrel of a gun, aimed squarely at his chest. But something solid, fast, and familiar collided with Kieran and dragged him out of harm’s way as the bullet shattered the air where Kieran had been moments ago. Maelstrom dropped Kieran behind a pillar, looked him up and down, nodded to make sure he was okay, then dashed off again. Kieran exhaled, his back pressed against the pillar he was hiding behind. He wasn’t of use in a situation like this; why the hell did Aegis keep sending him into them? They kept sending him into gunfights with nothing more than a knife and his abilities. He wasn’t even sure there was bulletproof protection built into his suit. Not to mention, being in an active fight made him feel like he was about to die himself, with the amount of death reeking around the place, no thanks to Ris and Bash. He had to do something. He dug deep and felt all of the ghosts in the building. They were restless. They wanted to help. Good. It would make this easier.

“I’m about to summon a shit ton of ghosts to come help you guys out, but I’m going to need some cover,” He said into his comms. Summoning this many ghosts would leave him vulnerable for far too long, and he didn’t trust this pillar to shelter him that long. “See you all on the other side.” He closed his eyes, and pulled every ghost he could reach into the material world. There was a second where he thought it hadn’t worked; and then the visions came crashing in, lives and deaths and everything in between. The crash was so significant that he could vaguely feel his legs buckle and his back collide with the pillar, but he wasn’t able to stop it. He just had to ride it out and hope that the ghosts were at least helpful.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgana Ishida Character Portrait: Emeris Mikaelson Character Portrait: Lucille Simon Character Portrait: Ada Forrest Character Portrait: Mikey Santo Character Portrait: Clarence Lawless
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xxxxxADAxxFORREST
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Outfit The Druid Hex:#b54ea2


“Anyone?” Hearing nothing but static on the other end, Ada dropped her earpiece into her bag. She would have to speak to Kit about it.

To: Kit
Ear not working. Where are you?


A brief snippet of music filled the room as the door opened and closed. Ada paused and heard heels clicking against the tiles. A cubicle door locked and Ada released a sigh of relief. Ada waved her hand over the sensor to flush the empty bowl. She would probably find it weird if she had heard someone leave a bathroom without flushing. She unlocked the door and peaked out to make sure the coast was clear.

No one else. Good, that was good. At least she wasn’t about to be ambushed in the bathroom. She placed her hands under the tap and waited for the soap and water. Ada methodically washed her hands; palms, nails, between the fingers, back of the hands, 30 seconds. She moved along to the hand dryer, the warm air blasting the moisture from her hands. She heard a flush behind her and her eyes flickered up as a dark-haired woman stepped out of the cubicle. There was an awkward smile exchanged between them before Ada shook her hands and grabbed her bag to leave. The woman was probably harmless but Ada wasn’t about to hang around to find out.

She left and half-walked, half-jogged back to the party. Soft, old-school swing music filtered through the room. Ada looked up to the stage and felt a pang in her chest when she saw Lucille up there singing. The lights danced off the stones on Lucille’s dress, only adding to the dazzling show. Lucille was beautiful, everyone always said so. Her mother always said so. Up there, under the lights, she looked ethereal. Ada didn’t even have to look over at her father to know the comparison was there. Everyone loved Lucille.

Well, now you’re just upsetting yourself.. Ada couldn’t argue with herself. She looked around for a waiter and took a champagne flute from one as they passed by. The flowers beside her drooped slightly as she drank. “Well, there’s no need for you to be upset as well,” she said as she stroked the petals. Her eyes swirled a bright emerald green as she conjured life back into the flower arrangement before settling to her usual olive colour.








xxxCAMERONxxJENSEN
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Outfit Variant Hex:#1a7572


The Variants smiled when Kieran’s voice came over the comms. “You would be completely right about that.”

The Cameron that was waiting by the stairs heard the gunshots echo through the building. Ah, shit. This was going to hurt. He began sprinting along the upper walkway, following the sounds of screaming and gunshots.

In the security room, Cameron watched the carnage unfold. Muzzle flash disrupted the cameras’ view of the room, and, more importantly, his teammates. A stray bullet took out a camera in the room. Wait… The cameras were way to high to be hit by a stray shot. No one was that bad a shot, right? Cameron looked across the control panel as screen after screen turned to static. “Now, I don’t wanna alarm anyone, but they’ve taken out the cameras on the opposite side of the museum, heading down to the basement level.”

Back in the exhibition hall, Cameron was fleeing down into the carnage. Kie’s call for cover came through. “I think I can manage that,” he answered as Variants split off in every direction, an army of dark uniforms making a nuisance of themselves while Kieran summoned his ghosts. There was a brief moment of searing pain as a bullet pierced his abdomen before he was absorbed back into himself, the bullet falling uselessly to the ground, the clatter lost in the cacophony of sound around them. All around him black coats were separating and disappearing into themselves, almost dying but not. Isimir was a good enough shot to miss him so long as he was careful. Friendly fire wasn’t something he needed to worry about. The delightful gentleman in front of him was another matter entirely.

Cameron closed his hand around the barrel of the gun, redirecting the rattle of bullets up and over his shoulder. The barrel was hot, even through his gloves. Cam dreaded to think how painful it might have been with bare hands. The man tried to wrestle back control of the gun and received a swift kick to his kidneys for his effort. The natural reaction to protect the wounded area meant his grip was loosened, giving Cameron enough leverage to prize the weapon away and crack the butt against his opponent’s head, sending the man sprawling. Cameron stood over him, pointing the gun at his knee. “Now I have your gun, and a lot more people than you do, so why don’t you tell me what’s going on here and you can keep your knee caps. Seem fair?”

“Fuck you.”

Beneath his mask, Cameron scowled. Around him, he was fighting between and alongside ghosts and whatever else Kieran had summoned. The man began to scramble away and then yelled in agony as his kneecap was shattered into thousands of fragments. “Would you like to lose the second one?”

A Variant had made it across the room to Kieran. Not that Kie looked terrible, but Cam had definitely seen his friend look better. He reached over and held Kieran’s arm. “You doing ok, Prince Charming?”

His voice crackled through the intercom. It was still weird hearing his own voice on the comms. “I’m heading over to the basement. If someone could come along and cover my back, that would be amazing.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgana Ishida Character Portrait: Emeris Mikaelson Character Portrait: Lucille Simon Character Portrait: Ada Forrest Character Portrait: Mikey Santo Character Portrait: Clarence Lawless
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bastien delacourt.
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outfit. #360B0B.
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This entire ordeal was annoying. Bash really didn’t want to be here. He just wanted to be at a party with his girlfriend instead of dealing with annoying bad guys at a gala. Somehow Bruce seemed to be enjoying herself. Same with Isimir as per usual. But Bash wanted this to be over already and sadly his method for ending things quickly was currently frowned upon.

Bash had been busy taking care of three men who decided to try and attack him at once in hopes of subduing him when Charon asked for back up. Thankfully, Variant was there to answer the call. Bash then swiftly disposed of his assailants though refraining from feeding was growing more difficult as these fights dragged on. Bash was feeling hungry again.

“I’m heading over to the basement. If someone could come along and cover my back, that would be amazing.” Bash happened to be closest so he responded first. ”I’m right behind you.” Another was also heading with them to the basement that Bash used his speed to get to first. He slammed him against the wall and took a bite out of his neck. He’d used up his strength anyways. He deserved a quick snack.




kit cassidy.
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outfit. #698B69.
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Everyone had broken off to the party while Kit opted to stay behind for a bit. He wanted to gather his tech first and find a secure enough place to comb through security footage. Something just wasn’t sitting right with him about this. He couldn’t really find much of anything that would be useful which only furthered the anxiety he was having about this.

He put his things away and began making his way into the party as much as he dreaded it. He had to make an appearance but he hoped he wasn’t going to have to socialize with any of the benefactors. He found a table at the back corner of the room. He kept checking his phone to monitor footage but then his phone began to buzz.

Ear not working. Where are you?


Kit looked up and scanned the room. Seven was pulled into conversation with some people instead of finding Ada like she was supposed to. Kit rolled his eyes and texted back.

To: Ada
At the back of the party. I have new comms for us.


He finally caught sight of her as she was giving life to one of the plants in the party. His heart raced a bit as he remembered the crush he once had on her but there was no time to think about or dwell on what ifs. At least not right now for Kit as he made his way across the room over to Ada. ”Hey,” He said from behind her. ”Take this new earpiece. It links us all through Bella’s telepathy while the comms are down.” He briefly explained how it worked but became distracted when his phone buzzed with another message.

SOS, gadget not working right

”Shit. I gotta find Bella.” Kit abruptly left. Not paying attention to if Ada decided to follow or not as he walked and looked for Bella.

To: Bella
Where are you?
[/justify]

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgana Ishida Character Portrait: Emeris Mikaelson Character Portrait: Lucille Simon Character Portrait: Cameron Jensen Character Portrait: Kieran Gallagher Character Portrait: Bastien Delacourt
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Morgana Ishida
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Outfit || Wiccan || #b84425
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While being late wasn’t one of her usual things Morgana would never just not show up completely to a mission. She emerged at the back of the museum, walking out of the shadows that accompanied a dark corner where the loading dock was. As silent as her portals, her feet fell soft on the concrete as she shook out the initial cold and icky feeling she felt whenever passing through one of her portals. Sometimes, for her at least, it was somewhat disorienting if she didn’t focus enough. Things in the dark began to whisper… or so she thought. Once the nerves were gathered, brown eyes surveyed her surroundings. There were a few smaller trucks parked around but only two in the loading area . . . and no security? Her brow arched slightly, that was definitely a little weird right? Reeling her mind back in, the witch reached into her pocket and pulled out the comm she was given a few days prior then shoved it in her ear and gave it a little double tap. “I’m here,” Morgana chimed in, all while conjuring herself a half mask with a pass of her hand over her mouth, her magic, smokey black covering everything from her nose down.

There were sudden gunshots, BANG! BANG! BANG! They rang in her ear so clearly but Morgana stood firm, whipping her head toward the sound instead. It sounded like it came from the other side of the museum. She looked around once more, still no one . . . “Shots?” she questioned through the comms, but another set of them confirmed shit was going down. Morgana hastily began rolling up her sleeves, unbuttoning the first couple of buttons on her dress shirt so she wasn’t so constricted, and pulled down her suspenders. Shame, she didn’t have much time to change after a long day of nonstop work but she managed to pack a small backpack that clung to her back with her after-party clothes and a few other things. So there was that and the thought of a little someone . . . It still annoyed the shit out of her though, being late. “I’m going in dickheads, anything I should know about?” she spoke again through the mic, beginning to make her way around the building towards the sound of fighting.

Before rounding the corner of the museum, the chaos that she heard unfolding was about to be right at her feet. There was a short whiz and then a loud crack that instantly made her freeze right where she stood. A bullet, that was a fucking bullet! It landed in the concrete right behind her head, chipping some in the process. With her brows furrowed and heat rising to her face, brown eyes darted around her vicinity and before she knew it she was staring down a masked man a yard or so away with wild blue eyes and brown hair peaking from beneath his mask. The gun shook slightly in his hands but it wasn’t fear, he didn’t look scared. He stood and watched her, gauged her reaction before letting off a few more shots in her direction. There wasn’t much time for Morgana to react other than to pull a few quick hand movements lighting up the night with purple sparks and yell “Halt!”. The bullets stopped right in front of her, in mid-air before falling harmlessly to the ground. That's when she felt the sting. She raised her hand to her left ear, touching lightly enough to smear blood across her fingers. Just the feeling of warm and wet was enough to confirm her thoughts and with her anger rising, the witch took her bloodied fingertips and pulled her staff out from her chest with a purple glow and a wince. Like a bandaid, if you pulled it off fast, the pain would end fast and then you were okay. But other times the pain . . . lingered in her chest.

Without missing a beat she took a few strides to gain momentum toward the man thinking about how she now has to show up to an event after this with a bleeding ear. “Are you fucking serious!?” she yelled before launching her staff like a harpoon and having it strike him dead in the chest. The masked man crumpled into a heap while holding his chest and trying to desperately breathe but Morgana only held her hand out calling her staff back into her hands like some magic boomerang. “I’m heading over to the basement. If someone could come along and cover my back, that would be amazing.” ”I’m right behind you.” Hearing both voices, Morgana’s attention was snapped back to the mission as she looked for a faster way in. “Aha, my precious.” she sung out doing a grabbing motion with her hands towards a service door on the side of the building. “I’m heading in, see you guys soon!”

After making sure she knocked out the guy with a good kick to his face, Morgana examined the keypad next to the door and then lifted her finger up to it, a small purple shock of magic making it all go wonky before giving her the green. Alright, that was easy enough. Slipping through the door, Morgana could now hear the screams clearly, her feet already moving in its direction and her breath picking up. It wasn’t long before she began shoving past people, gripping her staff tightly. The first hand that was laid on her shoulder was met with a swift jujutsu submission where the person's arm was twisted and now they sat on their knees in front of her. Another dickhead in all black. With a further twist of his arm, there was a pop and a loud yelp cut short by Morgana hitting him across the face with her staff. She looked down and found a bit of blood across her white shirt and a slight look of utter blasphemy took over her features. “What the fuck, can anything white of mine just stay clean for more than a few hours?” she complained to herself. There was no point in trying to wipe it now, she’d only smear it more. Thud! Ow. The fuck? People were now pushing past her, bumping into her, and stepping on her toes. Wait, was that a person? She could have sworn he was carrying a sword? Okay, hell no.

The witch took off again down a crowded hall of people where she decided to piggyback off a few shadows making her trip into the exhibition hall twice as fast. Once she got there there was no hesitation in sweeping her first opponent's feet from beneath them with her staff. A swift blow to his face with the bottom of her staff and he was down for the count. “I’m in the exhibition hall, where do you want me?” The witch jumped back into the fray to help a couple cornered. She used her shadows to appear behind the assailant in an instant tapping his shoulder ever so gently from behind to grab his attention. “Hi, hello! Have you ever heard of the phrase to fuck offeth?” Before the guy could raise his gun at her Morgana kicked it from his hands thwacking him in the face with the end of her staff before uppercutting him with the bulky part.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgana Ishida Character Portrait: Emeris Mikaelson Character Portrait: Lucille Simon Character Portrait: Ada Forrest Character Portrait: Mikey Santo Character Portrait: Clarence Lawless
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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bella clayton.
Image
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outfit. sentinel. #772222
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xxx the sun's starting to light up
xxx when we're walking home
xxx tired little laugh, gold lie promises
xxx we'll always win at this
Image

The calm that had come from her conversation with Luci and Luci’s powers had long gone. Without the calming, grounding presence of another human being, the noise was loud again. She was sitting on the floor, curled into as much of a ball as she could manage, her head on her arms, her eyes squeezed shut to stop any light from coming through. Light hurt, sound hurt, everything hurt. The voices were so loud, and there were so many thoughts that she didn’t want to hear. Thoughts of violence, thoughts of anger, she couldn’t separate them from her own thoughts any more. Did she want to do those things? Had she already done them? Or was she just surrounded by awful, violent people?

She’d sent texts, or at least she was pretty sure she had. Maybe that had been somebody else’s thought as well. But after texting Kit, the time she’d been waiting felt like an eternity. She’d texted Mikey too, something along the lines of “powers bad, plz help.” When she felt the buzz of her phone in her hand, moving her head and her hand to look at it was almost painful. She had to squint at the screen to be able to make out the text. It was from Kit, that much she could see. Texting would take too much energy. Maybe it would be easier if she went and found him?

Then she moved too fast and felt, once again, like she was gonna throw up. Moving was a bad idea. She folded herself back up and took a photo of her view, sending it back to him. She felt like she should send an actual text too but the room was swimming far too much for that. She sank her head back onto her arms and prayed that somebody else would find her soon.




kieran gallagher.
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outfit. mask. charon. #757576
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xxx these are the eyes
xxx and the lies of the taken
xxx these are their hearts
xxx but their hearts don't beat like ours
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When Kieran came back to the room, he was sitting on the floor, his head leaning back against the pillar. His whole body hurt, but it was the usual post-power ache; looked like he’d managed to avoid getting shot at least. His vision was still blurry but he could just about make out somebody beside him. They put a hand on his arm and spoke to him; a familiar voice, perhaps the one he wanted to hear the most. He smiled instinctively, a soft smile that betrayed his relief at seeing Cameron of all people. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. He glanced down at his hands, seeing the too familiar sight of blood on his hands. “Nose bleed but no nausea, I’ll take that much,” he said, glancing back at Cameron and grinning again.

Now his vision was cleared, he could see something looming up behind them. Not something, someone, in an unfamiliar suit and with their eyes set on Cameron. Without even thinking about it, Kieran grabbed his knife and lunged towards the figure, his knife plunging into the figure’s thigh. They stumbled back, giving Kieran the chance to get his hand on their leg and dig deep again. He didn’t have time to think, didn’t have time to use the control he usually tried to use. And so their would-be attacker turned to dust before their eyes. Kieran sank back to a sitting position, not looking at Cameron. He hated people seeing him using his powers like this, seeing how horrified they could be. And he couldn’t even blame them for feeling like that.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m fine again if you wanna go… rejoin the fight or whatever,” he said. He wasn’t fine; he’d still need another while before he felt okay to stand unassisted, and his hands were shaking. But he knew people didn’t want to stick around after seeing that.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgana Ishida Character Portrait: Emeris Mikaelson Character Portrait: Lucille Simon Character Portrait: Ada Forrest Character Portrait: Mikey Santo Character Portrait: Cameron Jensen
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Emeris Mikaelson
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Attire | #8e9091
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Now you pack your bags
The party's such a drag
And everyone can tell
That you're poisoning the well
But there are no mistakes
Except what you create
You need to know your place
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The sound of scattering and ricocheting bullets managed to pull Isimir out from their thoughts. Giving over a quick scan of the room once more, they were able to see Drake in the middle of taking down two more masked individuals. Nice one, bud. Peering around the other side of their hiding spot, Isimir could spot another two figures, this time they were familiar, even from this distance and with masks. Varient and Charon. From the looks of things, Charon appeared to have seen better days, but with Varient, Isimir knew he'd be fine. More than fine. Giving a small nod, Isimir finally popped out from their vantage point, but just in time to stumble into an unknown figure.

"Now you", Isimir started, "Are really killing my vibe." they chided softly, quickly taking the masked assailant by the arm and flipping them over onto their back and onto the floor. Feeling the person's shoulder dislocate upon impact, "Nighty, night, sweet prince-" Isimir stated, before bringing their booted foot onto the individual's face. A soft crunch was all that was heard, and the figure went limp. That would at least keep that one down long enough, that's all that was needed.

Looking down at their watch, Isimir let out a silent curse, "Being fashionably late is still a thing, right?" they said to no one in particular, taking one more look around the large room they were in before turning on their heel and making a mad dash into the darkness. From their calculations and scanners, there was less than a handfull of unnaccounted for people, the others could handle it, right? Right.

Sure, Isimir knew they'd be getting more than an earful later on, they always did, but tonight was different. They had one night to do this, and they had no more time to spare. They could deal with Reaper, Charon, Bash, and whoever else lecturing them when they realized one person was missing from the group.




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Mikey Santo
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Attire | #197b5b
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I’m not yours to touch
Hear the warning
Not your sweetheart
I’m not your sweetheart
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Mikey had made her way from one room to another, managing to stay out of eye-sight for the most part. She knew there was more than a plethora of security cameras keeping the place on lockdown, but she didn’t care about that right now. She would deal with Xavier being upset with her at a later time. Something just wasn't sitting right with her. Those two people that had attempted to breaking into the party…That just didn’t seem correct. Or well, not entirely. If they had been attempting to make their way into the party, they could have very easily strolled in through the front door, Mikey knew that they guest list was abysmally long and as well as basic security would try, some stragglers would still manage to make it passed the front doors.

So, them simply trying to get into the party from the outside, dressed like that? That wasn’t it. Something else was going on, they had something else in mind, but what was it? An attack? If so, there would have been more. Terrorist threat? Again, there would have been more than just two, and the way they had been acting? Being knocked out by Quantum like that…But still being able to make a quick getaway in such a short time? That was the part that was beginning to bother Mikey. If they were able to take such hits, and still be able to escape moments later, without being detected? They weren’t normal attackers. She felt sick.

Mikey had found herself lost in thought, that she hadn’t even heard her phone chime. At least not until the last few notes of the familiar ringtone faded. Bella…, Mikey’s thoughts immediately went to her friend, going for her phone. Her stomach dropped for a moment.

To Bells: On my way, hold tight

For now Mikey would have to give up on trying to find some more clues for what those attackers were up to, she’d follow her hunch later on. She had more important things to attend to. Just as swiftly as she had left, Mikey had made her way back down to the main room where the party was being held. Dozens if not hundreds of faces flooded the room, the sound of chattering voices and the soft music being played the filled the room with a thunderous harmony. It was almost overwhelming.

Thankfully, Mikey had a feeling she knew where Bella was, she just had to find her. It couldn’t be that hard, right? Making her way through what felt like an endless sea of faces, Mikey had somehow managed to find her target. Bella appeared so small and scared. Holled up in the farthest place she could get herself. MIkey could feel her heart skip a few beats, she hated seeing the people she cared about like this. She knew how Bella’s powers had been affecting her of late, or at least the smallest idea of it, anyway. But this? This, only reminded Mikey of when the first two met. How scared and nervous Bella was. It nearly felt like a life-time ago.

Mikey brought herself back to reality and away from those thoughts, she needed to be present and here for her friend, not dwelling on the past. Just as Mikey began to make her way over to Bella, Mikey stopped in her tracks. From the corner of her eye she had managed to see a figure on the opposite side of the room, she watched as the figure slowly entered the room. Her breath caught in her throat and her stomach felt like it dropped. She watched as the all too familiar, blond figure fixed the cuff of the black blazer they wore. The all too familiar silvery, white blond hair was pushed back, appearing as more of a mane than anything else. Even from this distance, Mikey could have sworn the two made eye contact.

Why were they here-, Mikey shook her head, she didn’t care. It didn’t concern her anymore. Whatever reason that had brought them here, was none of her concern. They hadn’t even properly talked in over a year, everything seemed so cold and distant between the both of them. On one hand it didn’t feel right, Mikey wanted to fix things, tell them the truth, but if there was one thing about them that Mikey knew, that once a bridge was burned, there wasn’t any way of fixing it. She had done more than enough damage by now, if she tried, it would only get worse.

Without much more than a second look, Mikey turned on her heels and pushed her way through the crowd. Taking a few deep breaths as she quickly strode the rest of the way towards her friend. Slowly crouching down beside her, ”You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Mikey attempted at a playful quip, ”How about we get a drink or something, huh? I think we could both use one right now.”