Bastien Delacourt's Story

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.

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.

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.

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.