Difference between revisions of "Logs:Fort Point Venture Brothers"
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| − | * '''Starring:''' [[Khoi]], [[Grigory]], [[Phillip]], [[Scarpia]], [[Claire]], [[Mickey]], [[Nicholas]], [[Why|WhyteRabbit]], [[Corinna]] and [[ | + | * '''Starring:''' [[Khoi]], [[Grigory]], [[Phillip]], [[Scarpia]], [[Claire]], [[Mickey]], [[Nicholas]], [[Why|WhyteRabbit]], [[Corinna]] [[Jeb]], [[Roux]] and [[Langley]] |
* '''NPCs:''' Mercy, [[Zora Pavlova]] | * '''NPCs:''' Mercy, [[Zora Pavlova]] | ||
| − | * '''Notes:''' The scene was split into two distinct groups: those on the beach, and those up on a lookout point. Poses by the group on the lookout point are set in <span class="GreenText">green text</span>. At one point in the scene, some character actions were paged but not actually posed to the rest of the scene when they should have been. Content in <span class="BlueText">blue text</span> is not originally part of the log | + | * '''Notes:''' The scene was split into two distinct groups: those on the beach, and those up on a lookout point. Poses by the group on the lookout point are set in <span class="GreenText">green text</span>. At one point in the scene, some character actions were paged but not actually posed to the rest of the scene when they should have been. Content in <span class="BlueText">blue text</span> is not originally part of the log. My (Batty) computer crashed so I don't have the pages and am just writing what I remember in the blue. :( |
= A Film Crew Arrives = | = A Film Crew Arrives = | ||
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= It Was A Bad Idea = | = It Was A Bad Idea = | ||
Roux remains still in the water, not hearing the movement nearby as they continue to watch. Black beanie, grey skin and black eyes. Barely anything that would stand out against the evening swell and rocks, this is the perfect environment for some cheeky Nosferatu voyeurism. The flashes are a surprise, but the Nosferatu manages to keep themselves under control, slowly turning to watch the event and listen in, while not attracting undue attention with sudden movements. | Roux remains still in the water, not hearing the movement nearby as they continue to watch. Black beanie, grey skin and black eyes. Barely anything that would stand out against the evening swell and rocks, this is the perfect environment for some cheeky Nosferatu voyeurism. The flashes are a surprise, but the Nosferatu manages to keep themselves under control, slowly turning to watch the event and listen in, while not attracting undue attention with sudden movements. | ||
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There's a current in the water, a shift, a -- twinge of blood far off. Soon, that sensation blooms into more blood, coppery and decadent, little tendrils of tempting taste strung through the salty ocean water. Then the bubbled scream of somebody far off in the dark of the ocean as the adrenaline and pain grips them. Above: "Oh, SHIT, did you give him his ID card? God damn it, Ivan, I told you to give him his ID card! Who on-boarded him? Fuck -- Bring him up, bring him up before Viray has to get in here." | There's a current in the water, a shift, a -- twinge of blood far off. Soon, that sensation blooms into more blood, coppery and decadent, little tendrils of tempting taste strung through the salty ocean water. Then the bubbled scream of somebody far off in the dark of the ocean as the adrenaline and pain grips them. Above: "Oh, SHIT, did you give him his ID card? God damn it, Ivan, I told you to give him his ID card! Who on-boarded him? Fuck -- Bring him up, bring him up before Viray has to get in here." | ||
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Roux and Langley's saving grace is the freakishness of their bizarre Swamp Thing rising from the water, their horrid broken teeth, the dire situation of the now-armless diver's panicked agony, and (apparently) that nobody covered this during orientation. They are able to make a breakneck escape tearing through the wireweed and brush, up up up the cliff and into the fog. They've escaped, for, uh, now. | Roux and Langley's saving grace is the freakishness of their bizarre Swamp Thing rising from the water, their horrid broken teeth, the dire situation of the now-armless diver's panicked agony, and (apparently) that nobody covered this during orientation. They are able to make a breakneck escape tearing through the wireweed and brush, up up up the cliff and into the fog. They've escaped, for, uh, now. | ||
</span> | </span> | ||
| + | [[Category:Logs]] | ||
| + | [[Category:Fort Point Murders]] | ||
Latest revision as of 12:26, 21 January 2022
- Starring: Khoi, Grigory, Phillip, Scarpia, Claire, Mickey, Nicholas, WhyteRabbit, Corinna Jeb, Roux and Langley
- NPCs: Mercy, Zora Pavlova
- Notes: The scene was split into two distinct groups: those on the beach, and those up on a lookout point. Poses by the group on the lookout point are set in green text. At one point in the scene, some character actions were paged but not actually posed to the rest of the scene when they should have been. Content in blue text is not originally part of the log. My (Batty) computer crashed so I don't have the pages and am just writing what I remember in the blue. :(
Contents
A Film Crew Arrives
The light of the full moon bathes the foggy San Francisco bay in an eerie light that glows like some sort of omen. They say the killer always returns to the scene of the crime.
Two murders were committed on the western side of the peninsula is the rocky strand near Fort Point Rock. The gargantuan golden gate bridge's concrete and steel loom over the historic site of Fort Point itself some ways north, and the visibility is ... Well. It could stand to improve. The tendrils of nighttime mist are a mixed blessing, as anyone can benefit from its cover.
One murder is far closer to that historic site itself, a body found at the feet of the bridge's southernmost legs, just before the salty, frigid water.
Then there was the murder just beneath the bridge.
Khoi's Tracer 900 arrived somewhere off in the Presidio some time ago. It signed himself and Corinna up for quite a hike, but such are the tradeoffs of life. Having left his motorcycle helmet but kept on his gear, he's walking along the trails leading to the scenic area. With the light of the full moon and the overall light pollution of the city to aid him, he is just walking the winding path, westward, towards DESTINY.
As the fog shifts and dances over the bay area, a vehicle is approaching the area at an almost snails speed. Who in their right mind would honestly come to a place where not one, but two homicides had been discovered?
Someone with entirely to much money and time on their hands, thats who. A stretch limo rounds the corner towards the parking lot of the historical site before coming to a stop, idling for a moment before shutting off. Headlights still blazing in the foggy night, the driver side door opens and a young blonde woman in a business suit steps out of the limo to approach the passenger door on the driver side. Opening it, a soft but business tone says officially, "We have arrived" before a tall man steps out of the limo covered in a large black coat. Adjusting the coat, and the suit beneath as he glances around a deep baritone that is almost musical to be heard simply says, "So we have. Gather the equipment, there is much I need to see before a final decision is made for the location of the shot." Stepping out of the way of the door, he slides his hands into the coats pocket as he says over his shoulder towards the limo, "When you are ready my friends."
Phillip steps out of the limo wearing a long, black trechcoat. After he emerges, the man reaches in and takes out a long, thin black bag with a strap on it. As he moves to stand aside from the car door, he slings the bag up over his shoulder. He then stands quietly as the others get out eyes sweeping the immediate area.
Scarpia has stepped the mast on the little tender he calls his 'jolly boat', transforming the thing from rowboat to catboat. It comes in from the Northeast, sail bright in the moonlight and plowing a straight path toward the parking lot.
Claire steps out of the limo before giving her limbs a good stretch. She nods over to Grig before saying, "Always ready brother." She begins to look around and take in all the sights and spooky sounds.
Mickey must be some sort of stage tech. He's dressed in rugged boots, snug jeans, a snug-fitting t-shirt, and a camo coat, with headphones around his neck. He gets out, and follows behind, carrying a case. "Just let me know when we're ready to get started getting the test footage," He says to the man in the suit, "And I'll get everything set up and ready."
Nicholas pulls his green 1960 Willys Jeep station wagon into the parking lot of the Fort Point Historic site. He steps out of the card and closes the door quietly. The keys vanish into a pocket and he does a brief check of the rest of his pocket. Turning away from his car, he scans the area around him.
Sheriff Pavlova is dressed in chelsea boots and a well-to-do outfit beneath the trench coat she has. As she watches Phillip take out the `tripod and camera bag` she holds the door open, watching Mickey emerge as well. Then once everyone is out she shuts the door. "We will scout good location for filming. I want to find the way to get to the shore most fast, so we can decide if we will need vehicles and what kind of vehicles we can put. Maybe ATVs. For the cameras." Yes. The cameras.
WhyteRabbit parked closer in the Presidio, coming in his F-150. He makes sure he is out of the line of sight of cameras, and checks his pistol and his shotgun, and ammo. Before he moves away from the truck he takes out his phone and types in some code, then angles off to meet up with Khoi. He is wearing a beige trenchcoat, closed with a tied belt. He is looking around for other people as he moves.
Whyte is able to be confident in his camera-scan. He can get his stuff all nice and ready in the cab of the truck, for example, before his big debut out into de world.
Corinna, for her part, stomps through that hike with boots meant for it. She doesn't say much on the way, her hair tied back in a tail, and her leather bomber jacket zipped up. There's a bit of distance she's keeping between herself and Khoi and WhyteRabbit as they hike. The cool of the fog and the rustling of trees and brush keep them company. She's also just sort of... very ignorable at the moment, even to them. Easily overlooked, or forgotten, amongst the trees.
Mercy, the young woman who had stepped out of the drivers seat of the limo, nods her head and moves towards the rear of the limo to open the trunk. From within, she begins to remove multiple bags of various sizes ranging from purse like to large boxes. One is slightly larger than the rest, which Mercy seems to carry herself as she glances towards Grigory.
Nodding his head, "Of course" he says in reply, but to who is hard to tell. "Claire, would you be kind enough to help Mercy with some of the equipment? When we arrive, we will begin the set up of the equipment and decide where to go from there."
Moving towards the drivers door, Grigory leans in and withdraws the keys from the limo, locking the door and closing it. Pocketing the keys, he turns towards the group as the equipment is gathered and looks towards Zora, "When you are ready, Madam."
Jeb emerges from the rocks cropped between the public restroom and the water. The crooked, swaddled man b-lines to limo and crew, maybe a casual observer might assume a member of the unhoused community looking for change. He reaches up and tips the wide brimmed hat to Grigory, or squinted at whomever is dressed well enough for Jebediah to confuse him with.
Claire nods to Grigory as she moves over to the vehicle to assist Mercy with the lifting of giant bag. "Where would we like to setup then?" She asks as she swings the bag over her shoulder. She looks around for a bit for a nice location.
Phillip stands quietly as Zora steps out of the car and she and Grigory make plans to start the project. As Jeb approaches, he gives the man a nod of his head, "Bonsoir, Monsieur. Good to see you." His French accent is very clear.
To any observer the Frenchman would see like some artsy fartsy photog or filmmaker that this group must have brought in from overseas. He glances back over his shoulder toward others and says, "Lead on." He then looks ready to get rolling.
Scarpia drops his sail as he arrives at the bank below the parking lot, and hops neatly out of his little boat. He's forgotten his shoes again. He drags the wooden rowboat up the bank a ways, mindful of the rocks and half watching the party around the limo as he works.
As Mercy gets situated, handing out equipment and taking orders, she turns her eyes off toward the west over the water. The assembled film crew here has most of her attention, and Zora turns. "Let's be off," she states, seeming to find little amiss. Mercy turns to crane her head. "I think there is a boat out there," the ghoul murmurs.
After a while of hiking, working up a sweat that staves off the chill of the night, Corinna arrives at the precipice of the cliff overlooking Fort Point, just south of it. She hangs back, there, quietly nestled amongst the trees and rock cover, and stares out at the fog occulting the bay, squinting against the weather.
Nicholas arches an eyebrow and tilts his head just a bit. He shoves his hands into his coat pockets and begins to walk across the parking lot toward the west. Under his breath he sings to himself. "Wish they all could be California girls....."
Eyes Are Already In The Sky
Claire begins to follow Mercy but occasionaly looking up and squinting, trying to see something. She leans over to Grig as she moves, "I guess you might not of been the only one with a drone idea."
Scarpia pads up to join the others, stopping few yards away from the group near the limo and looking out through the fog. "Another mechanical falcon," he says. "Where ees falconer?"
Jeb grunts at Phillip's greeting and cranes over in his direction. He tips his hat and tilts his ear toward the frenchmen, "Evenin' Came round the long way.". He looks down at the ground, "Or the short one however you reckon.". Something to the west catches the man's eyes as he exclaims to the general gathering at the limo, "Sorry for not hitchin' with ya'll. Didn't want to mussy up your carriage. Ya'll just let me know when I should step out of sight.". Drawn to the sound of Jack's familiar accent he tips his hat in his direction.
The observations of her coworkers gives Zora some pause. She halts. "Good evening," she says to Scarpia. The 'mechanical falcon' callout has her frown. She continues to walk, leading the way on a brisk walking pace, fast enough to be clearly with purpose, but not so relentless that anybody would have to jog to keep up. She simply is a woman here with shit to do. "We will continue, but I do not know where this little robot is yet. Drone."
Her jaunt westward is towards the chainlink fence. There are signs that say 'No tresspassing' on it, but she tries the gate and it opens. "Security theater," she mutters. When Nich's singing voice catches her ear, she turns to regard the man, recognition in her eyes, but she doesn't say anything. She just presses onward.
Mickey shifts his grip on the case he's carrying, as he trudges along. He looks for an optimal spot to start setting things up. "It's right here." He says, patting the case. "We'll just... set this bad boy up in the right spot and then get it underwater. I should be able to operate it from here and we can get the test footage we need." He looks over at Mr. Director. "Just say when."
"It is no matter" the Russian gentleman says idly as he turns his attention towards the direction many seem to be glancing "we just have to ensure that they do not get in the way of our filming is all. I do not need the hassle of getting a permission letter for his likeness in the shot." Grigory does not move for a long moment as he just watches the fog swirl as people begin to move. After a moment, he takes a deep breath and lets out an audible sigh before following after Zora.
"Good evening" he says to both Scarpia and Jeb as they speak, gesturing as he moves past, "When everything is ready, we will let you know" he says idly towards Jeb as he passes through the gate as Zora opens it.
As Corinna finds a vantage point, Khoi holds back. He checks his phone, looking down at it, flipping it open.
Nicholas pulls up short when he hears the familiar voice and turns to looks over toward Scarpia. With just a quiet nod he turns back where he was headed, to the west and the fence whee the other woman passed.
"'Ello, Jeb," says Scarpia, beaming at the dusty fellow. He shrugs and then pads after Zora, not slowed at all by his shoelessness and the rough surfaces, looking about as he goes.
Phillip sets off after Zora. He walks much like her, swift and with a purpose. As if there were places to go and things to do. As the Russian woman encounters the fence blocking the path, he sizes it up. Would be easy enough to clear it. But, then she finds it unlocked. He chuckles at her mention of the security theater. Then, he walks through the fence gate after her, hot on her heels.
WhyteRabbit moves closer to Khoi, within sight and walks up to him, looking around.
Khoi snaps his phone shut. He glances up and around himself. "I know that kid did not just try something," he mutters, loud enough for Corinna to hear. Once Whyte shows up, he seems annoyed, and gestures toward him to beckon him over. "Were you trying something just a moment ago?" He asks, his voice low, to try not to let it carry.
Jeb walks off from the group ducking behind the limo maybe to lay down as it seems like the man in the wide brimmed hat, swaddled in layers does not rise again.
To be fair, while Khoi believes Corinna might still be in earshot... it might be altogether hard to tell at the moment, in the dark, fog, and foliage.
WhyteRabbit frowns, saying quietly "Yes, I tried to send you a message because I didn't want to chance using the cell phone. Some sort of defense blocked the message though. There's also something going on toward the west end of the bridge. Twinkling lights coming in from a mile away heading southward."
Khoi just gives Whyte a /look/ when Whyte says 'some kind of defense'. He double-blinks. "Do you /normally/ just push messages into peoples' brains, man?" A put-upon look marrs his East asian features, before he looks out toward the beach and the lights, squinting. He crouches down, half-ass hiding in the scrubby wireweed. "Augh, it smells like the /sea/ here." What did you expect, Khoi. What did you expect. "Alright." He's still speaking in low tones so that his voice doesn't carry much further than his two partners in crime. "What's the plan here? My plan is to try to discover what big event my cards said would happen tonight, my reading was unclear. It was a big deal, but I don't know if that means we have another death."
WhyteRabbit leans close to Khoi, saying "I was just trying to send you a message. Should I link us up so we can communicate, or do you not want to do that? Also, should I perhaps camo myself? Since it seems we are not alone". In point of fact, Why will kneel to lower his profile against the moonlit sky. He pauses, then answers Khoi's question. "My plan was to help protect Lily, but she doesn't seem to be here. Second to that, I want to stop the Fort Point killings, I think the killer is either a mage or a vampire."
The Film Crew Sets Up A Drone
Once they're in position, Mickey seems to set up the drone. "Not super-familiar with this model," He admits, "But I think I can figure it out." He seems to know what he's doing, as he puts stuff together, and gets the laptop rig he'll be using to control it set up. "I was always kind of mystified by the idea of the submarine," He admits. "They just put a bunch of guys in a watertight box with oxygen tanks and turn them loose-" He gets the drone set up, and then sets up a sort of winch with a platform, before he slowly lowers it down into the water.
"Okay." He says, once it's submerged, "Here we go." He walks to the computer, and begins to operate the drone. "You can see the camera feed here. I'm using the underwater infrared camera right now, because using the spotlight could potentially bias the, uh, marine life."
Roux is bundled up on another miserable San Francisco evening, their features covered by a thick woolen scarf and a black beanie. The large, pallid skinned individual shifts their weight uncomfortably under their bulky clothes, taking a moment to scratch an itch in their chin a pointed fingernail. "This is the place. Fort Point." They murmur, glancing in the direction of their compatriot. "Hey uh? thanks for comin' tonight. I honestly don't know what to expect here." The figure lets their gaze linger on their compatriot for a while, giving them an appraising look with their inky black eyes.
"/No/ you f--" Oooh, Khoi's mad. He then suuucks in a breath, finding his center. Or trying to. He manages to smooth it over, and then he says, "Please do not send me messages in my head." His voice is now a low whisper. "Just send them to me on my phone. Get a prepaid, get the Signal app, throw the damn phone away when you're done with it. Or, we can later decide on a metaphor to use later so you can text freely, but damn, son. Damn. Don't force me to think thoughts that aren't mine." When Whyte says 'I think the killer is a mage or a vampire', he just goes, "Bruh."
While Mickey gets the drone up and working, Phillip does what he does best. Sets up an overwatch. For the moment that means he moves over toward a rock and unslings his bag from his shoulder. Resting it down next to him, he settles his rump down and lets his eyes drift out across the beach. Plenty of people are going to be watching the lap top computer. The Frenchman only has eyes for the surf and the very real potential that a monster could emerge from there.
He keeps a special eye out toward the north, in the direction of the bridge.
Langley croaks a reply "yeah, no sweat". He adjusts his shabby and stained hoodie as if it were an expensive tux. "so uh, seems like the beach is pretty popular tonight, were we expecting to achieve anything in particular tonight?"
Something Mickey hears makes him go "Mmm." And he crooks his finger to Grigory. "C'mere. Sir."
Claire gets a confused look on her face as she looks over her shoulder, she turns to say something to Grigory but sees Mickey motioning him over. She turns to look back in the direction of the said sound while crossing her arms.
Corinna... is still nowhere to be found near the two men arguing at the top of that cliff. No, she's amongst the rocks and trees, watching and listening, narry a peep from her.
Squatting down near Mickey he leans in slightly to speak to the man in hushed tones for a moment. When he finally speaks, he nods his head at something before saying "Wise. I would rather not disrupt the seals if possible. They do have a habit of ruining things." Snorting slightly, the Russian turns to look at the camera feed quietly as he seems to mull something over, glancing over his shoulder to look at Claire for a moment before returning his gaze towards the camera feed.
"That ees what me cat thinks," says Scarpia quietly, looking out over the water again.
The dirt covered man who disappeared behind the length of the limo remains disappeared, obscured in a Cloak of Shadows. Through the mist, across the coarse sand on the heels of Zora and the group she leads. Jebediah looks over in the direction of the other trio beyond where he can see but something snags his attention. Not that anyone might notice that unless they can pierce the Cloak he wears.
Phillip looks toward Zora and says her name clearly, "Zora." A pause as he crooks his neck back up over his shoulder toward some folks up higher on the shore, saying now more softly, in French,, "We are not alone. Someone else is here looking for the killer. Seems like they want to keep things pretty quiet. They mentioned vampires and mages so it's not a bunch of bystanders or cops."
The Peanut Gallery Is Heard
As the fog parts in the bay, and as the drone gets settled into the water, the nature of these lights in the far off distance starts to reveal itself. They creep closer, and then cutting through the fog like a spotlight --because it is one-- is a single beam from some telescoping light source that climbs up a little higher as whatever mount it rests on is extended skyward. The far-off noise of the boat's engine starts to bleed into the soundscape.
Roux crouches next to their ugly friend, shushing him with a finger held to his lips. Craning their neck slightly, the scarfed Nosferatu looks back and forth between the gathered parties. "Looks like it. I just want to get a better idea of what's going on... just be careful, whoever these guys are they're definitely aware of... let's just say we don't need to worry too much about the masquerade in front of these folk." With that, the Nosferatu places themself in a position to overlook the whole affair and eavesdrop, trying their best to stay out of sight. "There's something out there in the water, maybe that's what's got everyone's attention?"
Langley mumbles "damn shushy prick" as he hunkers down next to Roux
Khoi watches Whyte and the glow of that smartphone screen. He falls silent, and then he fills his lungs with his rising blood pressure. When his phone buzzes in his pocket, he blinks once, twice, three times, and with each blink, his rising irritation shows in how much harder he sets his jaw. "You /stupid/ fucking /cuck/," he says to himself in Vietnamese, his tone annoyed. He takes out that prepaid nokia flip-phone, flips it, glares at it, flips it shut, and doesn't say a word or indicate anything. He just watches the water.
Scarpia sighs, looking out over the water. He says, ostensibly to Zora, "They are to see us soon enough, if they are no do already. You want I should hail zhem?"
Phillip's searching on the horizon and the water has yielded some fruit. He leans up off the rock and meanders over toward where Mickey is working with the lap top and presumably Claire and Grigory are as well. Jeb is unseen. He leans in and speaks loud enough that those in his immediate area could hear him.
He points over toward the north on the water, "Hey, It looks like a boat is coming. Four people on board. Look like they could be military or police. We might have guests soon asking about exactly what we are doing here. This is near the Presidio, so it could be the military police on patrol." The man then quiets down.
"...Is that a submersible?" Mickey says, furrowing his brow. "No, it looks like a coastguard cutter," He narrows his eyes, "...But it's not. Private outfit?" He pauses. "...Retrieval team." He turns back to the drone feed. "Better make this quick."
Whyte takes out his smart phone and opens up a screen. A unique shade of blue swallows the screen, emitting its soft light into the night on top of the hill, as the man stares at it for a few moments, concentrating.
Roux ignores the complaints next to them and keeps their attention fixed on the lights in the fog. "A boat, about four people, out on the water." They whisper hoarsely. Their eyes dart back and forth between the parties before them. "I wonder if the rest of these guys are expecting them." The Nosferatu ponders for a moment before looking, once again, to their companion. "Hey, uh, you recognise any of these guys?"
The whirring buzz starts to fade away from overhead the Film Crew, flying southward toward the precipice that overlooks the beach where Khoi, Whyte, and Corinna are. Whyte, Khoi, and Corinna each can see a black quad-copter drone zoom up toward their lookout before it hovers in the foggy air several yards above Whyte.
And as Phillip searches on the horizon, the most perceptive among the group who heard the weird little engine noises to the southwest hear them coming a little closer. Whyte, Corinna and Khoi can each hear a few vehicles crackling up on the trail to their south-southwest, which is to say, behind them and off to one side. The FilmCrew can also hear it, but coming from a little further off.
The underwater drone starts to cut through the water at Mickey's direction.
Nicholas turns walks down to the beach and he looks out onto the water.
"Hey," says Scarpia mildly, "We are being flanked."
Leaning over to speak to Zora quietly, Grigory turns his gaze towards the direction that Phillip has indicated and watches for a moment. Rising to his feet slowly, the Russian says quietly to those gathered around him, "Focus on your task" Grigory says as he pats Mickey on the shoulder before stepping away from them. Looking around the beach he seems to shake his head slightly, "Perhaps this evening can be salvaged after all. Mercy, prepare your camera if you would be so kind." As the driver withdraws a small tablet from one of the bags, she places it in front of her face and begins to record as Grigory says, "As we progress, if you happen to see any seagulls, do be so kind as to clear them from the shot. Annoying pests, I have no desire to hear their squawking." Glancing at Phillip as he seems to watch, he turns his attention towards Zora and says easily, "If you wish, we can always do this another time?" There does not seem to be any sort of rush to the man as he simply turns his attention towards Scarpias words and arches a brow, "Indeed."
Zora listens to Grigory, and then she looks to Phillip. "Let us fall back, the drone is in the water. I don't like this. We can continue to pilot the drone from a further distance than this, with these others coming." She doesn't leave much time aside for argument. Some headlights are starting to flood the parking lot of the Fort Point parking lot.
Langley croaks like a toad, a vague approximation of laughter "Yeah, the guys on the cliff were people my wife had over for tea on the weekend, I think the film crew were the ones who filmed my last box office hit, and that boats just my butler bringing around my yacht... you know I've been a shut in for too long now, I dont recognise anyone. Hell, I barely recognise you."
Jeb continues to move with his peers in the film crew comfortable in his Cloak. When they stop or pause he continues to move even if it's just circling them. As Scarpia indicates something coming from their flank he looks, squinting his milky near blind eyes at the dark. When Zora starts to lead them back he is fast on her heels occasionally casting a useless look over his shoulder as they move.
Inclining his head slightly, Grigory turns and says to those gathered, "Grab the equipment then. We will return for the drone when possible. Or let it be just another piece of plastic in the water. It matters little to me in truth. I can always buy another."
Grigory moves off, leading Zora back the way they came as Mercy and Claire begin to gather the bags once more and start to follow after the pair.
Mercy looks back towards Mickey for a moment before continuing on after the Russians.
A Patrol Is On The Scene
Phillip does not need to be told twice. He takes one look at the boat, the lights in the lot above. Seems to be a bit of a pickle of a situation. He reaches down to grab his bag, slipping it up over one shoulder as he turns to leave. He looks to Zora and the rest and says, "If it's the police, as long as we get back across that fence we should be fine. Let us put a bit of pep in our step."
Roux rolls their large, dark eyes - an act that is barely perceptible in the darkness. "Don't you take anything seriously?" They whisper. Crouching lower in their overlook position, the Nosferatu nervously scratches under their scarf. "If we haven't been made yet, it'll only be a matter of time. These guys seem to be alert, now. Maybe discretion is the better part of valour in this case, eh?" Rising into a walking-crouch, the figure begins to back away from the scene. "Let's split."
Scarpia still watches the lights of the boat, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He turns to follow the Russians as they move off.
Khoi starts to creep backward. He's trying to make as slow and un-escalating of a backwards exit as he can. He'd previously been crouching, but he's no Rambo In The Mud like Corinna over here. Slowly, steadily, oh God.
Whyte also starts to creep backward in a different direction from Khoi, sneaking back and away to wordlessly dip.
Mickey frowns - but then he remotely kills the power, and lets the drone sink. He quickly packs up the computer. "It's not the police." He says, quietly. "And it's not the coastguard or the navy. These guys have no identification that I could see. And my eyes are pretty good. I can guide the drone to a safe spot and retrieve it from the beach. These things have serial numbers that can be tracked, so you don't want to just leave it behind if it can be avoided."
As the Film Crew crosses the fence, they're narrowly just in time. Just as the last of the group enters the other side of the lot and Zora closes the chainlink gate like they totally weren't just in there, they see headlights fill the parking lot. Two jet black Audi A5 coupes with 'EXEMPT' license plates roll to a smooth, eerily soundless stop. Behind that is a cabover truck, large and boxy and grumbling with its diesel engine. Its beige color and three axles exude military, but there's no insignia, no serial numbers, no DOT signage.
Langley grabs roux by the sleeve "hey now, not so hasty, if everyones leaving then nobody will know whats going on, might be worthwhile staying a little longer to see, could be valuable info...?"
Scarpia mutters to himself, narrow-eyed, slinking quickly into the parking lot and eyeing the headlamps of the arriving vehicles with a resentful expression. "So, what," he says to Zora quietly, "We all go along home?"
Zora pauses, not entering the limousine, but she doesn't impede anybody from entering it. She shakes her head, eyes watching the pair of Audis. Two men exit the rightmost of the cars. The both of them are in black suits, earpieces, dress boots, white shirt, black tie. They are wearing glasses, but not sunglasses. Clipper cuts that keep their hair neat and uniform.
As Whyte and Khoi start to depart and move, the drone immediately zips right off towards the water, flying off toward the boat, disappearing into the fog.
"...They're searching from the air, too." Mickey says. "...I assume we've been at least partially made. But I also think they're looking for the same thing we're looking for. It's only logical. Aerial drone's headed north, toward the cutter."
Roux pauses at the tug on their sleeve, glancing back towards the other Nosferatu. "Alright, fine. At least let's keep a low profile? split up a little and hide ourselves with disciplines. We can communicate through text if we need to." They pull out their old Nokia, tapping on it lightly. "Let me go first and find an overlook, you follow in about fifteen seconds, ok?" Roux doesn't wait for a response, double timing it up the beach to find a hidden, dark spot where they'll be able to keep their eye on the encounter. They travel in a path perpendicular to the other groups, trying to get some distance between themselves and the rest of the tresspassers.
Nicholas makes his way back toward his vehicle, but doesn't get in yet. He looks over to looks over to the Limo and the people who got out of it.
Important Agents Arrive
Phillip slips through the gate as Zora shuts behind. His eyes swivel to the parking lot and the veritable cavalcade of shit that comes pulling in. He pauses and then arches a brow, seeming openly impressed at the firepower and the speed at which it arrived. The Frenchman mutters softly, "Merde. That kicked the nest." As his crew makes their way toward the dark limousine, he follows along, quickly, doing his best to not draw too much attention if he can. Just blend in.
"If it can be piloted from a distance" Grigory says quietly to the group as a whole as he watches the vehicles begin to pull up with a curious expression before continuing, "then its fine." He glances at Zora for a moment but says nothing before turning his attention towards Mickey, "I am sure we have. It will be fine" the Russian says soothingly before approaching the limo and withdrawing his key from the pocket and moving towards the trunk to unlock it.
Khoi's eyes turn to the sky and he runs a hand down his face. "Get out of here and go to a goddamn hotel," Khoi whisperyells at Whyte. "You want me to give you the benefit of the doubt, you prove to me you're not a fucking idiot tonight, you hear me? Hotel, prepaid go-phone, cash only!"
Corinna continues to sit amongst the foliage and fog and the dark, a good little scout. She lets the ocean air wash over her, the sounds of the various groups either tiffing or fretting or cooperating, even though the exact words don't reach her through the clouded distance, some tone might make it through.
At the very least, it's quieter up on her perch, now. Lets her hear the insects buzzing and the lapping of waves.
Langley pauses for a second, a little perturbed at not being able to make any more quips, then just shrugs his shoulders and watches where roux is headed before following along in his best 'im just an innocent hobo looking for a place to sleep' impression and settling in a short distance from his compatriot, blending into the shadows
Zora watches with tension. She glance Phillip's way as he mutters and one slow, shallow nod concurs as she watches these two black suits get out. The FilmCrew is approached by the two men, one of them reaching into his coat. He pulls out a black leather badge holder, and flips it open. "I'm going to have to ask you to clear the area immediately. Matter of public safety. If you do not leave, I will need to have you escorted."
The badge itself is important! Much government, very authority. What department of who now? Who knows, but he sure is official!
Turning his gaze from the trunk as it is opened, Mercy and Claire begin to load the equipment into the trunk of the limo at a signal from the Russian man. Grigory looks at the badge that is flipped open and frowns deeply before responding, "Not a problem, Sir. We were on our way out in any case." The Russian grumbles to himself as he glances back towards the south and gestures idly, "A group of hooligans were ruining our evening in any case. Some argument or another, I do not know."
Unlocking the door to the limo, he hands the key to Mercy who begins to slide into the driver seat as Claire finishes packing the trunk. Opening the door to allow others in, he speaks to the Man in Charge and says as a concerned member of the city, "I do hope you will do something about them" before ushering Zora into the limo, he himself following.
Claire nods her head towards the Suit and slips in behind her sibling, making room for the others to slip in.
The Nosferatwo Stay Behind To Watch
Meanwhile, some cheeky little cobbers named Roux and Langley are hiding on the unsafe side of the fence. Guess what? They can hear an ATV rolling along the rocky beach sand, and they can even see it, too! The headlights stretch out with their cold, mercury-blue reach, combing the rocks. There are two men on the ATV, and a third standing on the back of the frame, wearing some weird nightvision goggle contraption as he stares out along the strand into the water. "Something up ahead," says one of them. "You sure? I don't see anything," says the second.
Scarpia shrugs to the group and starts down the bank to where he's left his little boat, obediently clearing off for the authorities...
The Frenchman does not need to be told twice. He takes one look at Zora, nods, and then ducks his way into the car. The guys in the suits are asking them to leave. It is time to go. The man settles his bag in the car next to him as he does.
Assuming Grigory is still intact after giving his pro-tip to the guy in the dark suit, Phillip speaks to him once the car's doors are closed, he simply looks at him and says, a hint of mild disbelief, "Really?? I know you were not looking for reward money." He might be searching for a reason behind this move.
Nicholas looks at the "Men In Black" and blinks. "Entschuldigern Sie, bitte? Vat ees ze problem? Someting dangerous?"
The black suit who is standing next to hears 'Entschuldigung'. He turns his head. He says in German, "You need to leave the area, sir. This is a kinetic area that has been the site of several murders by a violent killer. The perpetrator has been taken down in the area and we are clearing the site for evidence and body recovery. We will escort you if necessary."
As Scarpia starts to leave, the first agent who had flashed the badge sees the trajectory of his departure. He seems mollified by the group piling obediently into the limousine and seems content to let them pack up. "Please ensure the limousine leaves the area," he says, to nobody in particular, but there /is/ that second Audi, and its headlights turn back on. The engine doesn't make a sound. Was it ever off? "Sir," he calls out to Scarpia. "Sir, I cannot have you go toward the shore at this time. There is an investigation ongoing with boats and individuals in the water and you would impede that. I am going to need you to leave the area and stay on land for at least two hours. Do you need an escort?" His voice is stern, and while it is not unkind, neither does it have any warmth.
Zora piles into the car and shuts the door. She pinches the bridge of her nose. She compulsively ensures those windows are rolled up, and then she whispers. "What was it that was said about the drone in the water? Can we turn it on to listen? God damn it."
And lastly, for Roux and Langley: STREWTH, the rocky shore is CHOCKAS with waves and rocks. Hidin' from these CHAMPIONS is gonna be a PIECE OF PISS.
Scarpia looks up at the man, says, "I am come along een me leel boat, you are no letting me to leave here in her?" He shakes his head, "Let me to roll down to the leel pier at least." He doesn't sound challenging, just reasonable.
"It is going to be two hours," the agent says. "Our crews are combing the bay for two hours and I cannot predict the trajectory of your boat in correlation to theirs. Two hours, sir." He asks it again in the same dutiful deadpan as before: "I will escort you if necessary." This time, it sounds more like a promise than an offer for the thin stranger's convenience. The bilingual agent looks to Scarpia from behind those Buddy Holly wayfarer glasses frames. He gives the man a second look.
Scarpia rolls his eyes and starts back up the slope, saying, "Eh, what a nuisance," and shaking his head amiably enough. He will hang out elsewhere for a few minutes, and then return under the cover of Obfuscate, to find a new vantage point to watch the unfoldings from afar.
Folding his arms across his chest as he settles into his seat, Claire flanks him as he seems lost in thought for a moment. When Phillip looks at him and speaks to him, his attention is stolen and his gaze switches towards Phillip. He simply holds a finger up to silence the man for a moment as his attention seems focused more on what seems to be happening outside the limo. He glances at Zora for a moment, trying to share a look with the woman as everyone piles in. When the door finally shuts, Grigory says quietly to no one, "Drive." The engine roars to life as Mercy begins to taxi the group away from the scene.
Turning to look at Mickey first, Grigory says, "Turn the drone back on, get us what info we can. If it seems to difficult, get it out of there and pilot it somewhere we can pick it up."
Finally turning his attention to Phillip, the Russian no longer seems the jovial individual he normally is. The regal standing of the man is in full force as he begins to say, "No, I was not. My duty was to ensure that Ms Pavlova got away as best as possible. In a hunt, the hunter is only ever really after its target. Its prey. We" he looks around the limo "were not its prey, and luckily it is easier to throw off the scent of a hunter with bigger game."
His eyes narrow darkly for a moment as he says, "Though it would seem that certain issues, above and below, may be taken care of without our help."
"Indeed sir." As he goes on, some beeping noise comes out from under the bilingual agent's belt. A voice says 'We have gotten a visual.' "Copy that," says the bilingual agent.
Moments later, a second pair of agents from the second audi emerge, closing doors and wasting no time on the ones gathered here, their paces brisk. The cabover truck starts to stir as people within the canvas-tarped cargo it is trailering start to get out. They're wearing some sort of BDU-type outfit underneath see-through Hannibal Lecter Murder Suits, AKA Tyveks, and are pulling out some sort of ...Gurney, speaking of Hannibal Lecter.
Nicholas sighs. "I don't require any escorts, danke. I belief I can find my vay out of here. Too many people around anyvay." He opens the car door to get in.
As the spectacle of ... Technicians? Starts to get out, the agent steps forward to the driver's side of the limo to knock on it and wave in a lesser polite get-a-move-on. However, Grigory bids the driver to drive, and they don't need to be told twice. The rear view mirror isn't available to the driver, but the back up camera is, and of course, to its occupants, there's the rear window. As the limo navigates around the three cars with their captionless EXEMPT plates, they can see a glimpse of an interior in that canvasy not-actually-military cabover truck.
Nicholas will not be impeded on his way into the car.
Roux hides amongst the rocks of the beach, as the DRONGOS in the ATV have a SQUIZ around the beach. FAIR DINKUM, those BLUDGERS couldn't find a LOLLY in a MILKBAR. DEFO must be HEAPS DEVO. SWEET AS. Roux glances towards the water, regretting not having brought a COZZIE now it's time to say HOOROO. Not bothering to look around for their compatriot, who has undoubtedly sunken into the shadows, the burly nosferatu steps into the black water, lowering themselves until everything below their eyes and ears are obscured. They watch, obfuscating themselves and waiting to see if anything else occurs.
Nicholas has a look around, then gets into his car and drives off.
Langley sighs and mumbles to himself "personally i feel like these rocks are fine, almost comfortable, but noooooo, Roux wants to take a dip in the goddamn water..." before following along, slipping alongside roux in the filthy water
Corinna stays very very still. It may be that her knees will hurt when she moves later. Or maybe not. She's young.
When Scarpia considers the way back, he will have a decision to make here. He can climb the chainlink fence to get back or he can get into the water and take the scenic route. Our poor Aussies have been dangling upside down for quoite a whoile now so we'll let them have some fun for a bit in those 15 IC minutes, sound like a plan?
Langley tempts fate as he mumbles to himself, but he is able to maintain that caul of anonymnity and unimportance as he abandons his comfortable rockbed for the water. The two fithly buggers slide into the frigid bay waters just moments before the ATV's little wheels slide past. And then there is a flash of the lights far off above water. Whoever's on that boat quartet is signaling something by flashing his light around in a rapid swing back and forth.
The waters churn and bubble. Langley and Mickey get a ... Front row seat is a misnomer, given the muck and the grime, but in the pounding noise of the surf little can be discerned by ear. Instead, there's a flash several yards down, several hundred yards below water, like someone were to have set off a camera. Pftoof! Another spark. Corinna, up on her vantage point, can see the spark, herself, albeit muted from the cover of fog and sea. The surface of the water bubbles.
Phillip narrows his eyes at Grigory as the man attempts to shush him. He is definitely /not/ jovial either in the wake of the gesture by the big Russian. "Miss Pavola is perfectly capable of taking care of herself," the Frenchman says with a glance toward her, "What you did was direct people we don't know to other people we don't know. Those others look to be someone who is at /least/ aware of our kind."
The man settles back into his seat and looks out the window, "No, Mister Usov, they were letting us go. You possibly just provoked others for no reason." A beat as he snaps back at him and says, "Sorry, let me be correct, you do have a reason. It is just not a good one. But, I assume it is kudos for your nobility at least."
Assuming at some point, the limousine pulls up to a stop and they do the drone thing, Phillip nods to Zora as the car rolls to a stop. He says to her, "Let me know if you need anything else. I am going to step out for some fresh air for a bit." Assuming someone does not stop him, he just gets out of the car.
And, by fresh air, the Frenchman meant -- walk the fuck home -- which he basically does. He never comes back, leaving the others in the car to figure the rest out.
It Was A Bad Idea
Roux remains still in the water, not hearing the movement nearby as they continue to watch. Black beanie, grey skin and black eyes. Barely anything that would stand out against the evening swell and rocks, this is the perfect environment for some cheeky Nosferatu voyeurism. The flashes are a surprise, but the Nosferatu manages to keep themselves under control, slowly turning to watch the event and listen in, while not attracting undue attention with sudden movements.
There's a current in the water, a shift, a -- twinge of blood far off. Soon, that sensation blooms into more blood, coppery and decadent, little tendrils of tempting taste strung through the salty ocean water. Then the bubbled scream of somebody far off in the dark of the ocean as the adrenaline and pain grips them. Above: "Oh, SHIT, did you give him his ID card? God damn it, Ivan, I told you to give him his ID card! Who on-boarded him? Fuck -- Bring him up, bring him up before Viray has to get in here."
Roux narrows their eyes, attempting to see in the fog. They stick to the shallows and position themselves among the rocks, attempting to pick out any kind of details that would give clearer indication of what is occuring. The Nosferatu, with some hesitation, begins to creep forward.
Langley sees Roux moving around and reluctantly follows along, happier to stay where he was, but also eager to get a better look at this. hes feeling pretty confident that all these people with lights are going to be a much more obvious target than himself and Roux if this thing turns out to be as sinister as it seems.
So these two larrikins try to nip a little closer under the water. The tandem cobber cab creeps through the current. From their submerged point of view, the flashing light stops and then casts straight down into the water. There's so much blood, and a second man dives in -- Corinna from her lofty vantage point can see the motion and hear the splash as someone dives in for an assist. And beneath the waves Langley and Roux see a man in a wetsuit, with a bladed arm, speaking in the water it treads, as the second man grabs the diver who has just had his goddamn arm chopped off, to drag out of the water. As it speaks, the character of its voice bubbles from the waves, but his words can be mostly made out. "Licensed technician recognized."
And then, after a moment's pause, the man in the wetsuit turns its head.
"HEMAVORES DETECTED. TRIANGULATE FAILED TO START BECAUSE SCHDET.DLL WAS NOT FOUND."
Roux moves their eyes back and forth, attempting to survey around themselves. It'd be suicide to say anything to Langley right now, even if they knew where the sneaky Nosferatu shut-in was and they could whisper to him. No, better hope he's watching closely. With a wave of their hand, Roux VERY FUCKIN' SUBTLY indicates that the two of them should back away, and begins to move slowly along the shore, away from the whateverthefuckitis. Trying not to draw attention, keeping low and slow, Roux makes their way around the rocks.
Seeing Roux's movement Langley supresses a sigh and starts carefully making his way away too, significantly less confident about staying with Roux moving away.
After waiting around and loitering, Scarpia is returning under the cover of his own personal Unimportance. Those agents have better things to worry about than the wee nice Scarpia, si? Scarpia can returns to the area. He can have returned to the fort point parking lot area, he can have crept in another way, like up on that point where the whispering and phone glow had previously been pointed out. If Scarpia wants to get onto the other side of the fence, he will need to contend with opening or climbing it... Or he could hike over the actual landmass toward the walking trail to get a look-see. He can choose between a poorly vantage point that he can attempt to compensate for with his senses, or get in closer and risk detection.
Scarpia, familiar with the area, allowed his little walk to take him around another way, towards that once-twinkling point.
Langley and Roux sliiiide out of the water. Were they sneaking past some true DRONGOS, they would have gotten right on by. At first, they reach the silty shore, and they might even be able to call this one a win! But then a flashlight swings over towards them, courtesy of Boat Guy, sweeping the shore. Roux's hideous countenance is thrust onto the stage, and the guy who was standing on the back of the ATV with his weird nightvision goggle peepers snaps his head straight at the two. The team of suits that have their weird Hannibal Lecter gurney are sliding into view, having calibrated and fitted the straps on it, wheeling it to shore in a team of three as they pass the chainlink fence. "Hemavores detected. Initiating backup sequence." The man with the mantis blade arm starts swimming through the ocean in the Nosferatwo's direction while the crew on the beach take a dumbstruck second to stare. "What the-- "
Langley is no fool and sees that things are no longer calm observation, and he resorts to his second favorite approach. Sprinting for the exit only giving a token thought to staying in shadows out of habit.
It Was, In Fact, A Terrible Idea
Roux starts to make his breakneck escape and tries to plant his foot in the face of the man who DARES block his path, to clock him in his stupid goggle wearing face! The two men in the little four wheeler take out their tasers, acting fast as the monstrosity gains on them, and the both of them fire. Pto, ptoo! The prongs stab into the undead man's flesh and...
And WHAM. Roux's muscles sieze up, at the mercy of their electric feel. Ooh, girl!
Meanwhile, chaos erupts on the boat, with much fighting. The traumatically amputated diver gets pulled on board, and one of them rips some sort of inhaler thing out of the cooler. "OH my GOD!" One guy screams. Over the water: "They didn't cover this at orientation!!" The dude stabs the inhaler looking thing into the diver's chest. "Stay with me, stay with me!" Meanwhile, one of the quartet on the boat snatches some kind of device from the same, flipped-open cooler, and with adrenaline-trembling hands, flips some switches in a frantic spasm of desperat action and flips open a switchplate and SMACKS a button.
Roux lowers their head, narrowing their eyes. They dragged Langley into this, it's their responsibility to get him out... and there only one way out.... Time to clear the way for Langley and knock that dumb, suprised look of the ATV rider's face in the process. "Suck my Hemav-..." BZZZZT. Roux falls to the ground, writhing in a motion reminiscent of fish moments after being caught and flopped onto the deck of a boat. "...d...d....d...d......i...ck."
And the terminator drums pound as that meatbot Michael Phelpses to the shore. Listen, and understand, champions. That meatbot is out there, it can't be bargained with, it can't be reasoned with, it can't find pity.DLL or remorse.exe or fear, and it absolutely will not stop.
Corinna breaks her absolute stillness to lean forward and trace runes widely with her fingertip, like giving a benediction at mass. Except hail satan and have a good day madam. There in the fog she has an unkind expression, if there were anyone around and looking at her to see it.
Langley isnt sure whats goign on behind him, he hears gunshots, but those arent the problem that they used to be. He falls into a long and comfortable stride, his body surprisingly graceful as it remembers its athletic hisghschool days
Roux writhes on the ground, bullets peppering their flesh from the ATV rider who decided that a tazer just wouldn't cut it. As they writhe in pain from the electricity coursing through their system, and the steel penetrating their flesh, a red mist descends. Suddenly, pain doesn't seem to matter. Roux grips the cords of the tasers and pulls them free, rising to their feet. They pause for a moment, their scarf hanging loosely from their neck and no-longer obscuring their mouth full of twisted, broken teeth. In a rush, they launch themselves forward.
The top layer of the sand is particularly greedy for the meatbot's feet, and as the robit Usain Bolts with a terrifying stride he -- staggers, stumbles. Not once does he lose balance, nor determination, but it's an uphill iceskate, that's for damn sure, as Langley blows past him.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT! WHAT /IS THAT/!? OH SHOOT IT, SHOOT IT!" Does that ATV mook mean Langley, or Roux? Por que no los dos? Our gigantic muscleman has taken great pains to cover up, but there's just something about a waterlogged olympian burn/acid-bath victim and his Count Orlock companion that begs for this sort of response. The report of the .40 ACP erupts in the night air -- as does the Nosferatu's rage. Dude's going full Parta Husk mode.
Meanwhile, more chaos on the boat. The man smashes that button, and another button, as someone else administers more first aid on their diver. A flash of flame, the acrid cut of burnt flesh as a wound gets cauterized.
Roux lifts the ATV scooter. In the surge of AMGREREY, his beast roils and shrieks for vengeance and BLOOD AND BROKEN BONES! It all happens in a flash, faster than the humand mind can comprehend, and metal and plastic groan in protest as he lifts the scooter. The nightgoggles guy clung to the back of it loses his footing before he knows what happens to him, and the driver only stays seated by a sheer accident of chance, one hand whiteknuckling the steering wheel in the pants-shitting terror of almost fully realizing that this is a real-ass monster. But it's the guy with the gun who truly suffers, because as the vehicle careens almost two building storeys away, onto the rocks, the trio is dashed and scattered in a blurred spasm of violence, and the crack and splatter of bones accentuates the rip and tear of plastic against the rocks.
In the throes of frenzy, Roux sees the awkward angle of the neck of the bastard who shot him. In the dying fumes of his Frenzy, though, there's that ATV, and the robit is chasing after his friend.
The ATV goes careening through the air, courtesy of RouxMail. As the heavy vehicle smashes into the robit, the meatbot staggers once. Sparks fly like flint rocks striking one another off of the robit's wetsuit. Its humanoid figure does not bleed, its expression unchanging. The motherfucker *keeps running*, like a Boston Robotics landbot merely thrown off kilter...
In this short interim, Langley is able to make it to the chainlink gate. Although the robit seems nigh unstoppable in terms of beating it into submission, the sand has slown it, and the axle sandwich with a side of hubcap has staggered it for precious seconds that buy the other Nosferatu time and yardage.
Roux fumes as it rushes towards the rocks where the ATV landed. They stand there, fists clenched over the broken bodies of the two men, the rage that had welled up inside a moment before now giving way to sadness. Another person dead. Their brow furrows. Still, it can't be helped, it was a moment of anger. It was self defense. They were going to kill them and... Langley! Roux' eyes whip around, landing on the metal-monster still running after their friend. Gripping the ATV again, the Nosferatu hefts it before hammer-tossing it at the whatveritis.
The robot's next two strides are an abrupt contrast to what happens next. Although that staggering ATV hammer-toss should have obliterated it like so much hamburger, it just keeps running -- until it says, "Shutting down!" in the same stroke as its last stride. It stumbles to a halt.
Wellp, imma head out. Corinna pushes herself to her feet, clinging briefly to a tree for a moment, and then she stalks off into the fog with the quickness. The mists twirl around her, obscuring her from view as she nimbly heads back down the cliff, soles moving from root to root and thence into the built up fallen leaves. And in a few moments, even the rustling sound of her footsteps fade away. The chill grows deeper, there, on the cliff, and the boughs shake with a brief breeze. And then she is gone.
Roux and Langley's saving grace is the freakishness of their bizarre Swamp Thing rising from the water, their horrid broken teeth, the dire situation of the now-armless diver's panicked agony, and (apparently) that nobody covered this during orientation. They are able to make a breakneck escape tearing through the wireweed and brush, up up up the cliff and into the fog. They've escaped, for, uh, now.
