Twilight the Lynching II: The Sparkling Bogaloo (Game Thread)

[darkblade]

Harman

The kid writes out the address on a piece of paper and hands it to the assasin before running away.

***

Mr. Wednesday

"Long ago back when my people were the only ones on this goddamned hunk of land it was standard practice to for the humans to worship the Gods of the tribes they killed off. This whole peace business while better for the humans has never been very kind to us Gods." Coyote replies as he rumages through a shelf of bottles of varying colours. After a minute or so he hands Wednesday an unlabled bottle that looks like it once held beer but hand since been reused to hold something homebrewed that was most certainly not beer.

"You're the first of our kind I've seen since I argued with that new kid from the middle east-something that starts with J about his vigilante effort to converting my worshipers, pain in the ass he was. I was just about to ask how Loki and Anasai, my brother tricksters were doing out there."

[nanobot_swarm]

Dan nods, then heads back to the car, and inside changes. The world suddenly turns black and white, and time stands still. Dan explodes in thousands of droplets of blood, which then reform into a different person and everything returns to normalcy. Dan has been replaced by a mexican man with spikey hair wearing black jeans and a hawainan T-shirt, Coyote Smith, the thief of the Smith syndicate. He drives off towards the house.

[Cracklord]

Wednesday smiled a predatory smile. "Loki's doing hard time in the block after he tried to outfox me." He said. "Ansai's dead at the second. Heart attack. He'll be back, eventually anyway, but at the moment his two sons are covering for him.

Wednesday spat. "Ah. Him. Claiming to be the son of the almighty, he's got balls, that's for certain. Stole most of my people back in the old country, not that it matters to me. Owns a wineyard or something. That boy could fall into a sewer and come out smelling of roses." Odin shrugged and took a long pull of the bottle. He grimaced, shrugged, then took another one.

"Nobody sacrifices anymore. Even to the new gods. It's not right." Odin said. "They get fat on quantity, not quality. People used to sing to me as they were cut to bits on the battlefield, loving every moment of it as they shed blood like just so much water. Does anyone do that for the television? Would you die for a freeway?" he sighed again. "We're being made obsolete by mass production. We have to adapt. Darwin. Paley. E. Ching. Change with the times. He took another pull of the bottle. "That's why I'm here. I'm sick of running. Let them run from me." He offered the bottle to Coyote. "Want to be my second man? I could use a human, but that never works like it's supposed to."

[industrious]

"Honestly, Professor, I'm not sure I like this new TARDIS." Sitting in a Victorian-era chair, the teenager looked distinctly out of place. It wasn't hard to figure out why; the girl was wearing a leather jacket with more pins on it than should be physically possible. That, and the ominous-looking deodorant in her lap.

"Ace, I've been working on this interior for 20 years. It's supposed to greatly aid my navigation, and make things far more easier for this old little man." Speaking in a slight Scottish accent, said little man was currently hunched over a hexagonal console, apparently made out of wood and chrome and steel. He somehow managed to fit in with the interior, despite his paisley tie, scarf, handkerchief, and question-mark brolly tucked into his jacket pocket. It was probably the hat that did it.

"For example, I should be able to change direction while within the Time Vortex without rematerializing." Pulling on one of the levers, what should have been a smooth transition ended up a rather severe jolt, followed by the ring of a Cloister Bell. "That wasn't supposed to happen. Time Circuits are jammed, Ace. Prepare for an emergency landing."

Inside the Mueseum at Forks, Washington, a police box nigh-identical to the one that had just landed moments ago warped into existence, it's distinctive tone slightly different.

"Well, Ace, there is only one thing to do...explore, and see what sort of couture our mystery destination awaits."

"Couldn't you just look at the scanner to see where we are? Forks Washington, 2009, Professor."

"You are taking all the fun out of it, young lady. Now let's go. And for some strange reason I had the oddest urge to speak that last sentence in french."

[darkblade]

Harman

Coyote Smith arrives at a mansion that seems truly out of place in this middle of nowhere Town. Out front there is a team of workers moving boxes and furniture into a U-Haul. They don't seem to notice him.

***

Mr. Wednesday

"I told you Odin thats not my style. If it were there wouldn't be coven in Forks now would there? No, I'll help you where I can on the sidelines but I am not getting directly involved if anything were to happen to me Wolf's children would be left with no one to look out for them. We lost one of them not too long ago to the sparkling monsters. Good kid Jacob Black." Coyote takes a few sips from his own unlabeled bottle, without so much as a grimace.

***

Seven

A native American teenage girl stares at the out of place phone box that had just popped up next to her in the museum. In her surprise she briefly begins to shift into a hairier form before regaining her composure and returning to normal but remains gawking none the less.

[Cracklord]

Odin laughs. "And who says I am? Oh, I've killed a few times, but why should I resort to that straight away? My son you're thinking of there. Shame about him. No, there are better ways to do something. I prefer to stay at the sidelines, and make them think it was there idea to kill each other."
With that, he stands up abruptly, and slaps a tenner on the table. "I'll take the bottle with me. Take care of yourself, there aren't enough of us left for me to want you anywhere near a Semi." He says, flicking Coyote a cross between a wave and a salute. "I better get to work."
Turning on his heel, he walks out of the dingy little bar, closing the door behind him. The second he's outside, he takes a clean breath of air, then cracks his neck.
He hadn't expected that to go any different, but it was always disappointing. If he had time, he'd have Coyote dancing on his string. But he didn't. Letting out a shrill whistle, he held out his hand, and the two raven's alighted on his arm. Anyone who knew anything about birds would have been surprised, as they didn't dig their talons in, but simply balanced, patient as the grave. "Go to the place where they came from, and meet the other hunter." He whispered to them. "He will wear the shape of a man from far south. I have a proposition for him." He winked. "But avoid the alien. Both of him. That one is not someone I wish to meet at the moment."

[industrious]

Exiting the TARDIS, Seven notices the young lady, and takes his hat off. "How do you do my good lady? My name is the Doctor, and...Ace! Stop!"

The Time Lord has to hook his brolly around his companion to stop her from lunging at the woman. Not too long ago, the Perivale resident had been infected by the Cheetah Planet. It still lurked within her, and every feline instinct Ace had was telling her to attack the Wolf; eyes turning yellow, and fangs descending from her gums. All in all, not the best entrance the Doctor had made. Though to be fair, not the worst by far.

[darkblade]

Wednesday

"Take care of yourself out there Odin." Coyote sighs.

The raven flies off as commanded and shall arrive next time nanobot_swarm posts.

***

Seven

Without any aknowledgement towards the doctor the young woman shifts entierly into her giant wolf form and lunges at ace. The smell of the giant cat infection was just too much for her to control herself through.

[Cracklord]

Wednesday stretched, then began walking back to where he left his car. He stared around a bit, then opened the door and got into the drivers seat. He hadn't locked it, figuring if anyone stole it they were so desperate they needed it more then him. It was a convenience, nothing important.
Revving the engine into gear, he wheeled the car deeper into the reservation. He'd got enough from Coyote when he mentioned Jacob to know where he was going.

Parking the car in front of a house, more of a cabin really, he knocked on the door. "Billy Black?" He said, in a voice that radiated interest as well as concern.

[industrious]

Forcing Ace onto the floor, Time's Champion faces the wolf squarely. As it lunges at him, the small Time Lord ducks down, and touches the lycanthrope with a single finger, forcing enough psychic energy through said touch to knock her unconscious.

"I can't seem to take you anywhere, can I, Ace?" The girl, her inner animal suppressed, only nods her head. "This time, it wasn't my fault, Professor."

[darkblade]

Wednesday

A voice from inside the worn down house calls out to Wednesday. "Come in. Unless you are selling something in which get away from my house."

Seems Billy isn't quite as friendly as he was before.

***

Seven and Ace

The wolf falls unconscious and reverts back to her human form who incidently is completely naked now since her clothes were ripped to shreds by her transformation.

[Cracklord]

Wednesday steps in. His manner somehow suggest deferential feelings, his shoulders are square yet appear stooped, and he seems to have somehow acquired a paunch. He's a holding a briefcase in his left hand, and his suit suddenly appears pristine.
"Good evening, Mr Black. My name is Dr Wednesday, of the Faculty of Engineering in Stanford University. I'm here about your son." He says, in a clipped and proper voice, effortlessly pronouncing the capital letters. With that, he waits, certain that Billy would rise to the bait.

[doliest]

"While I will not argue with the idea that the Clown is more than up to this task; as well as any other task involving murder, I do not feel that this invalidates my ability to dispose of the Cullens. I do, however, have reservations about employer loyalty and the tools you could leave at my disposal." As Dr.Crane talks, never once losing that calm tone one would usually reserve for discussing particularly ordinary weather, his mind is raising the question of whether he can trust this woman who appears out of nowhere and asks him to slay his current employers; he doubted that the 'Cullens' were intelligent or paranoid enough to test his loyalty like this, which was yet another sign of their incompetence.

[industrious]

"Stop staring Ace." Heading back into the TARDIS for a brief period, Seven emerges with a long, hideously striped coat. The coat has so many clashing colors that the Time Lord wonders just how he could have worn it, only a few years ago. Getting rid of his Sixth incarnation truly was one of his better ideas, not only because of his horrible fashion sense.

"Ace...?" The girl had wandered off again. All his companions seemed to do that, despite his best efforts. Still, what a lyncanthrope was doing in 21st century was fascinating. And Ace could take care of herself. He hoped. Decided to wait until the woman had woken up, the Doctor took out a pair of spoon, and began playing a popular Gallifreyian tune on them.

Ace

It wasn't her fault that she was staring. She was just so...muscular. And she hadn't been staring for too long. So it didn't count. Honestly, the Professor could really get on her nerves. She loved him like a father of course, but still, sometimes it really showed that he wasn't human.

Realizing that she was "only" a few decades into her future, she then decided to take a leaf out of his book, and see how the world had changed since Perivale. And you couldn't do that in a museum, couldn't you? In fact, she was thinking about the world outside so much that she accidentally knocked over this one guy in front of the museum. Tall, thin, wearing a suit. "Sorry, mister. Need a hand up?"

[darkblade]

Wednesday

A middle aged native man sits in a wheel chair glaring at the God."Old Coyo told me someone might be by to see about Jacob but you missed him by year. He ran off with those Cullen abominations."

He shows visible disgust upon the mention of the Cullens. "Last time I saw him he was packing with his two year old fiance. Those monsters were moving to some big city somewhere and he had to go to since he imprinted upon the that infant demon, disgusting."

There seems to be some lost love between him and his son.

***

Dr. Crane

"Employer loyalty? Please it's no secret you hate the Cullens. The only reason you work for them is they are providing you with this meager laboratory away from the Bat." the woman's sense of humour returns.

"I'm not sure I know what tools you refer to? What you have here should do with only minor adjustments." The woman winks despite her sexuality seemingly being useless against the mad man.

***

Seven

The unconscious wolf girl makes no effort to resit being clothed. In fact it's almost like she is unconscious.

[doliest]

"Not their loyalty; yours. They are insufferable to say the least, but my last employers left me rotting in my own asylum. I'd prefer to know that if I am to rid you of the Cullens than I have someone who I can be sure will back me up when their allies come after me, at least until I am back in the streets of Gotham." Dr.Crane focuses his vision on the woman before him and continues, "As far as my equipment is concerned, I need to know if you have something that could insure that the syringes can pierce a vampire's flesh." Dr.Crane focuses directly on the woman now, looking over her when she responds to ensure she isn't lying to him.

[Cracklord]

Mr Wednesday sat down without being asked, and absentmindedly opened his briefcase, holding out a few sheets of papers. They were university acceptance forms, all forged. Forgeries were both very easy and very hard. Amateurs went to a lot of work, people like him didn't. People see what they expect to see, and filled in the missing details themselves. The finer the detail, against all probability, only drew attention to the flaws.
Mr Wednesday, started at the mention of 'Two year old fiance,' although it was feigned, then shook his head, ignoring the last words as thought they meant nothing to him. "I don't suppose he left a forwarding address, or a way to contact him?" He said, his body language reinforcing the image of a somewhat fussy academic a bit lost outside his area of expertise.
"Surely a number, or some other way of getting into contact with him..." Wednesday continued, in such a way to hopefully provoke his memory.
"I'm sure I don't need to tell you this is a very important decision for young Jacob."

[industrious]

The girl didn't seem to be regaining consciousness. Worried that he put too much psychic energy into her, Seven taps her once more on the forehead, intent on waking her up.

[darkblade]

Dr. Crane

"My interests lie only with stopping the Cullens I am afraid. Once that is done with you are on your own but you may feel free to retain this laboratory until you feel the need for expansion." the woman continues her speech without and form of hesitation.

"As for your equipment, bring me your syringes and I shall make the necessary changes."

***

Wednesday

"Afraid not. There are still movers at their old residence, moving some of their antique junk. They might know. Now, if you are only here about my son kindly get the hell away from me and my house."

It seems Mr. Black knows nothing and isn't happy about it.

***

Seven

The girl awakens with a jolt. Jumping up and pulling the coat tight against her naked body she backs away from the Doctor in fear. Clearly she is scared beyond belief and who could blame her. She just saw a British telephone booth apear out of nowhere, lost control of her wolf form, attacked a not quite cat girl, fell unconsious and woke up with a short alien scotsman standing over her naked body. This is not a good day for anyone.

[Cracklord]

Mr Wednesday gets graciously to his feet. "I'm sorry to hear that." He says, then leaves. Nothing. Plan B.
He has an urge to burn the place to the ground, but decides against it. It would be petty, accomplish nothing, and Coyote needs all the worshipers he can get. Besides, killing Billy wouldn't change the fact that he'd told him all he knew, if reluctantly, and there was no chance he was hiding anything. And sacrificing to yourself was so hollow. That in mind, he drove out of the reservation.
He was, surprised at Coyote, although it was tinged with respect. He was surprised the old bastard hadn't lied to him, he'd certainly have done that. It was the reason the old gods had such a hard time working together. They were all greedy, and Odin was the worst.
And yet, apparently he was fine to sit here, watching his power dribble away until he had nothing left, and go quietly into the night. No spine after all.
He kept away from the major landmarks and stuck to the backstreets as much as possible, which he navigated as though he'd lived there all his life, and got out at the police station.
Reaching into his briefcase he removed a few other objects, put them in the necessary place, then removed a handgun and clipped it to his belt, adjusting his jacket so it wasn't easily apparent. At that, he got out of the car, leaving the briefcase behind and stepping into the building.
"I'm looking for Officer Charles Swann." He said in his usual gruff, whiskey-aged voice, hooking his thumbs in his belt.

[doliest]

"Fine then. I will of course need time to accomplish this, and the syringes are on the glove on the wall; if all goes as planned they will be unnecessary in the incapacitation of the Cullens, but very rarely does anything go exactly as planned." Dr.Crane gets up and retrieves the glove, and upon handing it to her asks, "How should I stay in contact with you, and how should I go about being paid. I hope you understand that by agreeing to hire me that you have forfeited the right require a specific way for them to die."

[darkblade]

Wednesday

Officer Swan just so happens to be sitting at his desk right in front of Wednesday. This being a small town the police department isn't very formal and as such he feels no need to stand to greet the disguised deity."That'd be me. How might I help you today, sir?"

***

Dr. Crane

The woman take the gauntlent and sets it on the table in front of herself. Cuts open her index finger upon the front cannine of her coat. From her finger comes not blood but venom although this venom is much thiner and ore fluid than the venom Crane had been provided for his experiments. She closes her eyes muttering arcane words just quiet enough that Crane cannot make out the vaugely latin sounding words. Amongst her muttering she spins her finger around each needle. When she finishes she places the glove on the table and each syringe glows red for a second before returning to their normal stainless steel. Her business deminure returns "These should peirce any vampire's hide you come across now."

Not giving the good doctor time to even comment upon her ritual she reaches into the mouth of the wolf on her shoulder. From within it she pulls out a cellphone and a tiny toy scythe. She tosses the phone the Dr. Crane."There is a single encrypted number recorded on this phone. Use it to contact me in emergencies only. Any attempt to decrypt the number will cause the phone to explode as will calling anyone but me on it.

She places the scythe upon the table where it grows to the size of a normal primitive farming tool. "This weapon has been enchanted similarly to your syringes to cut through vampire flesh. Also it has been blessed so that the chosen wielder, that is you can wield it as an expert even with no personal experience. I assumed it would be benifcial to have an ace in the hole should a vampire react unexpectedly to the fear gas and the scythe seemed themeatically appropriate."

Having given Scarecrow his new toys she stands back up. "As for your payment I made a Ten thousand dollar deposit into your Swiss bank account before coming here. Do your job and the rest shall apear there as well."

[Cracklord]

Mr Wednesday removed a badge from his belt. "I am Special Agent Adam Wednesday, NSA." He says, letting Charlie Swann have a good look at the badge, as it is a good forgery and anyway the man likely has no idea what he should be looking at. "And I require your full co-operation locating an individual considered by my agency to be of great danger." He pauses, then steamrolls over before it has time to sink in "Your daughter."
In truth, this isn't necessary, but he's always had a flair for the dramatic, and this way is far more fun.
Besides, this way Charlie would remain off guard, and have no idea what was going on.

[darkblade]

Officer Swan immediately stands upright. "Thank God someone took my reports seriously but you came to late to save her. They turned her, the best we can hope for is for..." He trails off and breaks into tears.

[Cracklord]

Mr Wednesday shows no outside reaction, but inside he's grinning. "Calm down sir." He says, removing the cheap aviator sunglasses he'd put on to add to the image, and folding them into his pocket. "Start at the beginning. Calm down, and try not to miss anything." Then just to make sure, he adds "I admit that I found you're report a bit..." then trails off, leaving the man to fill in the blanks.

[darkblade]

After sniffling about for a few minutes Officer Swan regains his composser. "I know it sounds crazy but Forks is infested with Werewolves and Vampires. Well was the vampires are leaving town now for some reason. Either way my daughter was seduced by one of their numaber and he married her, she's sixteen and he's who knows how old decades, centuries maybe older. They had a kid two years ago she now is probably in her twenties. They turned my only little girl into a monster like them and then they left before anything could be done about it."

The officer slams his fist into his desk, disrupting paperwork for much more mundane crimes, up turning pleading letters to his daughter with no address and spilling coffee from his "#1 Dad" mug.

[Cracklord]

Mr Wednesday dropped the stoic facade, and replaced it with an open, friendly one, judging it to be more useful. Putting one arm on the police chief's shoulder, he nodded his head.
"I am very sorry to hear that, sir." He said. "I want to tell you that it will be OK, that we can get your daughter back, but I suspect I'm lying. Nonetheless, I will see to it that everything in my power is done to help her." He says, his face perfectly open and sincere, that even the most cynical, jaded bank clerk wouldn't hesitate in lending money to.
"Now, what can you tell me about the monsters, and do you have any clues where they might have gone?"

[darkblade]

"Bella's last letter." As he says that he sets about rummaging through the paper work to find the solitary letter.

"Ah. Here we are. She mentions something about Charslie giving her and Edward money to buy a dress for her to attend a charity ball at Wayne Manor. It probably means they have gone to Gotham but thats a big city to be searching for a single family." he passes the cumpled tear soaked paper to Wednesday.

The letter doesn't reveal much besides the fact that aparently the girl is quite estatic about being a vampire and with her "true love" Edward the little upstart deity. It does though reveal that the charity ball Officer Swan talked about is happening next week.

[Cracklord]

Mr Wednesday nodded. Removing his arm, he said, in a slow, gravely voice, "Thank you very much." He sighed. what the hell. "Consider this now a federal investigation." He removed one of the pieces of paper from his brief case and handed it to Charlie. This, he would recognize. It was unmistakably a warrant. "You a hereby acting on behalf of the NSA. I want you two seize all the objects being removed from the former residence, and process them as evidence. Furthermore, you are to imprison all the workers moving them for three days with no trial, phone-call or allowance to correspond with their atourney, under suspicion of terrorism and aiding and abetting. Can you do that?"
Without pausing, he looks around, then looks Charlie in the eyes. "One more thing. Think of me. Know that someone is looking after you, doing their best to help you, and that person is me, Mr Wednesday. It would make things...easier, knowing that." Hope wasn't as good as belief, but every little bit of faith helped.

* * * * *

In Gotham, a gloved hand clutched a letter. It was parchment, engraved, and had gold frogging around the edges. It proclaimed the holder was invited to the Wayne Enterprises building to attend a charity event.
"Goody!" Said a high pitched, falsetto voice. "Murder, Mayhem and much malefic mischief!" then, his smile turning into an exaggerated frown, twisting his makeup and making his hideous scars of his Glasgow smile even worse then usual, he said, this time in an exaggeratedly deep voice. "Of course, brutal slaughter isn't really done in the best of circles." The smile then returned, wider then ever, and the falsetto voice returned. "So I'll do it in the straight line!"
With that, he threw everything off his desk, and began searching through the chaotic stacks of his plans, muttering to himself. "Where is it? All these might-have-beens. I swear, I get so caught up in the murders of day to day life that I never let the really creative part of my soul shine."
At last, he uncovered a neatly rolled piece of paper. "Perfect." He said, after a cursory examination, in a voice somewhere in between the two extremes. "Now, I have things to do, places to see. People to kill." He looked up at the ceiling, then got to his feet, straightening his colorful suit, and throwing on his coat. "I'm coming, Gotham." he whispered, shivering in anticipation.

[doliest]

"I'll be getting to work then." Dr.Crane responds, before slipping a few of the gas bombs he kept handy on his table were slipped into his pocket in case one of the Cullens could read minds and he'd be forced to act sooner than he anticipated, but for now he'd move stealthy and pretend he still worked for them. Dr.Crane then quickly walks up the stairs until he was out of the basement he worked in and into the Cullen household.