Brought On By Night (pt.1)

November 01, 2017:

(Rated R) Escaping Cyberdata Lucia / the Neuromancer is pursued by an elite team of SHOC known as the Deadliners. Cyberforce shows to offer aid.


NPCs: The Black Nun, Cupcake, Shaggy, Slenderman, the Speaker/the Priest, Farmer Frank and Abigail



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Rhode Island, miles outside of Barker's Bay

It's cold tonight, the onset of winter is coming and it carries. Ones very bones will feel the chill that is laced with the darkness.

It has been almost two days now since the SHOC designated Neuromancer has escaped CDI captivity. Three days since she learned of Cyberdata's intent to 'process' her entirely. Why is the question. She was once upon a time considered invaluable. Perhaps its the nature of her work and the question of her morality? the secrets of the Godtech being unlocked? or quite simply the recent two-and-fro civil wars going on with Kimata, Zadrok and the Board of Directors. One can never tell. Cyberdata is both lucrative and highly dangerous to be attached to. The future. Mankinds future. The world and beyond.

The trees wrap together around the escaped SHOC technician like hands coming up from the frost blasted earth, fingers extended yet only overlapping in broken twists not able to fully connect to one another, to form a grasp. It's very appealing to those who enjoy the haunted look, very terrifying to those being hunted by the Deadliners. One of the most decorated and horrorific teams Cyberdata has ever assembled.

Yesterday early Lucia would have arrived in Barker's Bay. She would have also left there before the SHOC Unit following her trail arrived. She would not at that point been so far away that she didn't hear the screams of the coastal tourism town. Not just some of those within but all of them.

It's that same night that she would also see the town's glow from a distance as it was burned and cast to ash.

The wilderness she now finds her in is close to the outskirts of another small hamlet like Barker's Bay. She has found herself stumbling through a small dairy, the cows inside for the night lights illuminating the large barn they huddle within. A cozy farmhouse with a man on the porch by an outdoor firepit visible even from a far, he rocks in a chair unaware of what rests beyond the rise, where the trees curl around Lucia and she right now exists within the safety of shadow from normal eyes.

It is elsewhere that something moves in the trees, a branch shifts and something somewhere else snaps. Silence follows and creature presses low to the ground, no sounds, no noise follows. It has been this way for hours now. it as as though nothing in the forests so much as wishes to breath an exhale or coo in a whisper to it's woodland neighbors. The forest itself is devoid of noise.


Lucia herself probably looks like something of a nightmare to the eyes of the ordinary. It wasn't a fast process to get her nanites to shift over, black hair, black eyes, black skin. Tree's and dirt are their own kind of alien to her, devoid of the slightest trickle of circuitry. She's lost track; are they keeping her away from suitable weaponry or is she keeping them away from populated zones? Inevitably she's going to need to find somewhere to hole up, but they're too close and the silence of those woods is deafening.

Slowly she inches back from the rise, from the promised warmth of the farmhouse below; nothing in her immediate range of utility, and for all that every crackle in the darkness heralds the potential she's being hemmed in… she has to take the risk. It would be expected, that she would go for somewhere with technology, with a wealth of weapons into which she can insert herself, so she can only hope that doing the opposite might somehow keep her one step ahead of the Deadliners as she slips through the dark.


The dirt around the rise is hard from the cold ground. The leaves around her are brittle, dry, fallen with the change in seasons. No sounds means its harder to remain quiet.
The man on the porch continues to rock in place. Before her eyes draw away from the farmhouse she can see a shadow moving towards it like a eel through rapids, twisting and running quietly through fences, around a tractor, beside a car and then it's near the farmer.

Somewhere in the forests she hears the first sounds of the night, not an animals caw, nor a cricket chirp or an owl. A shrill cry. An inhuman howl that lashes at the senses with a frosty kiss. Whats more… a rattle. Metal on metal. Lucia should at some small measure be able to actually sense the presence of several entities near her, their technology whispers to her. It's bio-tech, embedded in their flesh, it is theirs but she can still through her mutant gifts augmented further by the SHOC treatments 'feel' /them/.


Lucia had intended to move on, but there's the feeling, and the noise… and worse, that shadow streaking for the farmer. She can elude… mostly. But that's not going to do much to shake them off of her. And the sounds of the fate of the last town she went through are still fresh in her mind. She recognizes that she's too far away to likely even help, and yet still, a car. Something. She elects to shift direction with the ghost of a sigh, skittering with speed but at least some concern for sound towards the farmhouse.

If she's lucky, maybe the car is new enough. Maybe there's a thresher somewhere down there. Something bulky and bladed and electronic to by some more time. It's at least worth the risk, and her conscience just can't bear leaving another person to die screaming tonight.


The car in the driveway is a newer model, the farmer's wife purchased it from Halo Enterprises. The model actually one of the electrics that has a self driving option that hit the line. Later they said it could be updated with 'flying' technology. Thats a thing to see some day though and a lot of ordinances need to be cleared first.

It's hesitation in looking around her that illicits a scream from the farmer, now suspended in the air against his own accord. She'll get a first look at her pursuers now… or at least one of them;
An abnormally tall humanoid with fetishistic black leather covering it's torso, lower abdomen and head. The peeling back of leather shows skin, gray to ashen pale, puckered with scars where pins are thrust through, entwining with cybernetic cables.
It's head lacks any visible eyes but the mouth is visible, teeth jagged to broken or protruding out, the tongue seen rested underneath through where skin doesn't cover the cheeks in anything more than strip. Hanging from overlong bionic limbs are elongated claws that curl in to hooks.
At it's stomach a jutting out horn exists, a disgusting addition that glistens with dried blood. The Deadliners. They are known to be the most horrorific and depraved of all SHOC.

The farmer dangles by his shoulder, a spike thats hooked curled up through it where he cries out, swinging at the air. A dog somewhere behind the house barks and a light inside turns on at the sounds.


And there's more of them out there, too. Fffffffff. It's more of a carress for the car as she reaches it, injects herself into it. She doesn't physically climb into it, shifting onwards to circle in the direction of the farmhouse and the farmer, but after a few moments allows that tendril of connection to turn over the engine. It's to provide distraction, the flip of the lights and clumsy disengagement of systems, brakes… off, gear, reverse.

Act like she's stealing it, like she's escaping so she can get the drop on that… thing, that nightmare holding up the farmer, at least buy some time so that maybe he can be sent off. She hasn't tried to seize control of another's augments before… worse comes to worst, maybe the car will slow it down, but right now her goal is all about that final sprint to try and reach the farmer and give him a chance if she can just get it distracted from its current target.


The lights of the car illuminate the porch, the farmer and the black clad monster. It's oversized hand rising up to cover it's face, mouth opening as an elongated tongue unfurls out, liquid dripping from it. The ensnared man falls to his knees, adrenaline and terror have him running and jumping off the porch, "Abi, get my gun! Abi!"

The door to the farmhouse flies open and a shrill cry is heard, a gun hits the ground and goes off firing off in to the woods behind the house. The woman, whom must be Abi is stumbling away from the nightmare hands covering her face in the only defensive action she can muster. People of the world hear about monsters, aliens, robots, mutants, strange things from other worlds but not everyone sees them. It's easier to pretend reality is as it always has been. This family just had their reality shattered. Eyes open.

A whisper through the machine, a voice to Lucia herself, little more than a rasp, "Lucia… we were you once. Flesh, fearful weak flesh. It is a hinderance until you understand it's purpose. It's there for us to rend away, to sever, suffer for enlightenment. You are the doorway to our Metal God. You belong." A female? A male? It is hard to tell. The voice is a hushed thing that is almost more felt through their bio-synthetics and the matrix within more so than heard. What she does know is it did not come from the creature upon the steps of the farmhouse. It's much more base in it's intentions. The collar about it's neck and the harnesses and straps lacing its black leather say as much if one was to try and philsophize it.


Step one, achieved at least. It leaves Lucia with an entirely different problem, but, well, one can't have everything. Even if the voice rasps over parts of her that want to twitch violently,"Y'mean human." it's words, spoken aloud, not that, granted, with her nanite dialed up to nine to try and camouflage with the dark that she likely looks like less of a monster to the poor farmer and his wife, but still,"Y'lot stopped being human a while ago."

She doesn't want the attention, nope, there's still enough weak, fearful flesh in her to know that she definitely doesn't want to be the focus of that attention, but well, there's options, and… options. It's an easy thing to pop open the door on the car even as she keeps her eyes on the one at the farmhouse, having to rely on that vague sense of them out there to keep track of its friends.

It's more soft she offers for the farmer,"You get Abi and you leave, okay? When the car pulls up, get in and go."


"Human? Far beyond such limited confines. Demons perhaps, Angels as well… eye of the beholder. You have heard the voice of our God. You know the song." The hushed softly murmurs. The voice in the machine. It is louder to some.

The woman in hysterics, Abi perhaps is unaware of anything beyond the leathery butcher before her. It's head in an avian like manner far too fast cranes to regard her, the headlights of the car no longer a shock. With a swipe of an arm the woman's nose flays off. Just the tip. A cry of agony escapes her. One that carries to the farmer and Lucia even louder than before.

"Who're you?" The man blubbers, clutching his shoulder. "Shes up there still, that things going to kill her. I can't get her. I can't get her. I'm too scared. Please… what do I do?" It would appear not just the woman is in a state of hysteria but also the man. The car isn't entered like it should be. Like Lucia instructed.

The leather slenderman on the porch swings again, something else hits the ground. A finger. One of Abis fingers twirls on the wood of her farmhouse floor. More rising screams.


"Only in your own delusional head. You can strip all the flesh away, still don't make you any kind of angel. Or demon." Lucia spits, aloud, she knows it's talking in her head, recognizes this, isn't going to try and answer in the same fashion. But this is only getting worse. And there's more of them out there. The sensible thing is to flee, the cowards thing. Lucia recognizes this, and yet, after last night she can't just walk away… and in for a penny, in for a pound. She breathes out a curse, snapping at the man,"GO." before electing to leap up the short flight to the porch with the intent of trying to barrel the leather slenderman away from Abi. Well, more specifically to try and bury her hands in it's metal exoskeleton to try and seize control of it from itself. In the least it might buy the poor woman enough time to flee.


The 'slenderman' on the steps is drawing back to swipe again, this time higher, an ear or more of the woman's already mutilated face. Lucia proves to be swift enough to clear the distance leaving behind the Farmer, he climbs in to the Halo Co. car and begins to push down on the knobs and buttons. It's a 'future' car, one of those new flashy things that old people don't know how to use. His wife's car and he is showing this in his hunt for the keys, the gaspedal, anything. The clutch of fear in his heart has him unable to breath.

As Lucia manages to wrap herself in a rough collide with the long bodied horror it looks curious down at her, an embrace from her is not expected. It's tongue pulls in and it smiles that open tendon to teeth warped smile down at her; the hooked and barbed codpiece covering it's lap wavers dangerously close to her where she has it gripped and one of those clawed hands reaches down, not fast like it was in a blur to dice up Abigail "Abi" but slow, a caress of hooks and metal. Then it squeezes in, curling barbed fingers in to her roughly.

A sickening sound escapes it's mouth, a sucking of slobber mingled with a chattering of teeth. A clacking and scraping of mangled bone.


He likes your smell. He wants to be the one to help you in your ascension through suffering. The voices source is showing itself now. Standing out in the fields before the farmhouse is another all black figure, a conical hat, an ashen face, a long robe of black. Hands folded inside. It looks like a none garbed in heavy leathers, her face pale face stitched down the center, no lips any longer just open where her teeth show. Around the lips is more stitching, slivers pierced through her cheekbones, her eyes mechanical red and hellish. She is 'the Voice'. A hellworld Nun in black leather.

The less than peaceful night's sounds of darkness, the screaming, the begging is interrupted by an approaching sound. At first, it licks the wind and drifts from far in the distance.

An engine.

The engine, far more a growl than a purr, and more a roar than a growl, sounds distant, as if coming from a highway far away where some greasy, unshaven asshole with dreams that died in the 1970's had spent years working on his own personal Burt Reynolds-mobile.

The sound of the engine, however, doesn't fade. It grows.

Something is coming.


There's so many levels of wrong going on to Lucia, she's trying not to listen to the one in the fields, instead barking at Abi,"Go for the car!" as she endeavors to put aside the grossness of the thing she's clutching, that… cod piece, the barbs. Two can play that game. Though she might not have any physical barbs she lets the nanites ripple into a more neutral state, the coloration fading from her skin as she focuses her attention on the thing she holds onto right now.

Usually the things she tries to seize control of don't have a mind of their own, but right now she endeavors to worm her way into the circuits of the SHOC troop she's latched onto with the intent of seizing control of him. She's been expecting others to turn up, tries to tune out the noise, one way or another she has to work a way out or she's screwed, and she knows it. And if the creepshow can be utilized to hold off its friends… all the better.


Bovine, equine, canine… hu-mine?

This is not humane, none of it, and for a moment Velocity on her 'scouti ahead' mission drops a cell phone is a puddle of bile. She ran ahead far and fast enough so no one saw her lose her cookies, the last thing at and shared with a rescued dog was jerky… and that long passed her exceptional metabolism. The back of fist sweeps along red lips, painted with the match of soaked strands of ferrari auburn while dulling green eyes cast towards a horizon. "It's getting worse, the last was still…..Steam—-" *hurk* A stagger-step of boots nearly run off their soles, beneath the tattered jeans the shock of green and gold suit can be seen, the flanel top hanging off a shoulder as she dips her hand down into waistline of breaking belt and unravels the top meant for her speed, leaving the 'vacationer' logger-top behind in a puddel of mud…

"…screams…" Coordinates are fed and in the darkness a shock of lightning zig-zags across open field towards the house, only stopping with a trail of static sparking behind when she leans in the open window and punches a button for the Farmer, the Halo engine firing up as best a hampster wheel can, nothing like that truck.

The scene on the porch though has her turning her head to peer their way, Lucia and the 'Slenderman' stared at, the voice in the distance only regarded with a swallow that is visible at her throat.

"Now now, big guy, slow dowwwnnn. You look angry, and if I had a mirror I would be too if I was you…."

A whisper to the farmer. "Floor it, promise…"


The experience of 'melding' with the slender creature are unique, the mental state of this SHOC is so engrossed in something beyond that it makes the cybernetics feel alien. Perhaps the most Lucia has ever dealt with. The base level of this creatures mind or perhaps its fanaticism, the claws hooking around her curl in, tightly, the nanites working their magic stop it from pushing her face, eyeball first down on to that codpiece. Instead it looks quizically at it's own limb as coils inside of it begin to unravel, twist and writhe as though its got snakes trapped inside of a pillowcase. So mindful of it's own problems it has forgotten Abigail, the noise of the motorcycle and now Velocity's voice over it all.
The Slenderman with the teeth looks to those watching him then back at it's arm. No pain. No real control for Lucia but it is entirely confused by this.

"Enough… interlopers will as well taste our will." The black leather nun in the yard informs them. Her voice once again on a tele-synthetic wavelength. Her fingers opening wide and she motions at Velocity, "Gaze upon me pale harlot. Look in to wonder and absolution." A hypnotic pull, a vertigo like swirl around the hand and an assault on equilibrium.

The farmer now in motion trys to wheel off course, towards the road. "Get help, 911, get help, have to help Abi…"


Lucia releases the car, at last, which no doubt will help the farmer with his flight. It's still all she can do to prevent the creature before her from gaining the upper hand. It has it's claws in her, physical, and it hurts on some level, but she elects to grab with the other one, to snag the spine. Pay no attention to Abigail. Worry about the slender woman. The alien feel of the cybernetics grates itself across her nerves as Lucia endeavors to pare it down to her control.

As far as she's aware the noises approaching are back-up to this one and its nun friend in the field, so trying to at least limit her problems as quickly as possible is the sum of her focus. There's parts of it that elude her understanding in the present circumstances and she endeavors to cleave the bits she can control from the whole as efficiently as possible,"Y'just another machine." it's for herself, a mantra she tries to focus on for now. Just another machine. It can't win.


Velocity is doing her best not to look at them, Slender'wo' man is enough, the carnage of bread-crumbs all the way here have already lodged entrails inot her boot leather so deep fire wouldn't sanctify…

As the Farmer starts to turn and even Lucia seems to wish him 'safe voyage', Velocity looks back enough to place a foot upon bumper of the teensy electric critter machine and sllide back in a pace to shive him down the long drive with force, but her kick off on that plastic bumper dents it and aids her forwards, towards Lucia and Sleder'wo'man .

No, not looking, not going to look at the next rainwreck in this whole little 'Cape Cod' Horror Show…. But even between lashes of red something anages to pull, perhaps the darkness around the hand, the pale gesture…. Harlot??

But even then her world goes sideways and shakes worse then the old carnival quake walkway and her mad-dash to try and stop the Slender on the porch is met with a sudden tuck and roll Crash! into the structure itself.

One. Single. Boot, knocked off like a cheap ked and sitting in the drive.

Nausae, not wonder.


The roar of the engine grows ever-present, soon turning into a yellowed headlight smearing light through the brittle trees. A single headlight. A motorcycle's engine when paired with the single headlight, it's undeniable, and making zero attempt to obfuscate its arrival up the farmhouse road.

When the shadows of claw-like branches and the tree coverage ends, the motorcycle skids into a turn and gains speed up the driveway. Dirt and rocks spraying a rooster's tail it its wake, it makes one final kick to skid to a stop just past the milk-fattened dairy farmer and his getaway car.

The blonde, with chin-length hair and one eye glowing red as the sun turns her attention to the forming fight with no true sense of expediency. With one arm that is a painfully obvious cybernetic replacement, she huffs her tank-top clad chest at the scene that is quickly unfolding, and reaches back into one of her motorcycle's saddlebags.

"They really didn't fucking bother to make any of you pretty, did they?" Ballistic pulls a hand cannon from the saddlebags that looks as if it weighs fifty pounds; large, obscenely large. "You two get sick of watching the farmers fucking sheep and decide to get off the fence and try it yourself?"


Lucia's technomanipulates are causing haywire on the Slenderman; one limb is now two being held aloft fingers, blades, hooks barbs and all scramble around visible. As if they're trying to unravel, it's mouth opens up wide, wider than a human mouth is able to and it makes a noise, a burbling sound that causes black bile to rise out of it's throat. The jerk of it's arms meets the rest of it's body and its soon like something out of Silent Hill having a walking seizure that draws it's hips in a jerk from Lucia's grasp, whips her to the side with its subconscious strength alone and it's knee bobbles back and forth like its about to fall.
A second of those pained warggle noises escapes it and the porch creaks after a loud CRAK of Velocity's body hitting in to the forward foundation post. The structure itself toppling down in a slide towards the grass and driveway.

The Black 'Nun' turns almost content with itself as Velocity pitches forward and tumbles, her mechanical eyes opening wider in a telescopic fashion, skin peeling back around camera lense like implants as it turns to face Ballistic. The pale skin split and stitched, the leathery robe held there by those staples in to the flesh that remains. Traitor to the Metal, bloodluster and sinner. Embrace me and I will show you the path to Heaven. The whisper of telepathy and technopathy reaches for Ballistic, Together we will find bliss in the fires of our most holy. Arms extend wide, the black flaps of her robe open up to reveal patches slit from it, there is a female body underneath, once curvy but now those parts that would be feminine have been replaced by cybernetics, stitches in skin hold fabric to flesh. The alarming aspect of this is the rows of blades exposed underneath, the rows of blades now starting to launch out in a razoring barrage of fired projectiles at the gunslinger.


Well that hurt. Lucia didn't even raise a hand to stop it, the loss of contact is sudden, but not as sudden as the sudden appearance of the ground. Followed by the meaty crack of Velocity's body striking the other side,"Oh my /god/ do you lot ever shut /up/?" Lucia can't help but snarl. Velocity… doesn't look like the creepshow, though, and neither does Ballistic for that matter. A look is cast Velocity's way, anxious even as she endeavors to pull herself to her feet and turn back to the Creepshow. She's already touched it. It's already 'infected' as far as she's concerned.

"Lady… I sure hope you're not with this lot." she mutters for Velocity, turning her attention inward again to try and resume her attack on the Creepshow, not physically this time, but by virtue of the connection already formed.


Velocity is regaining her 'Equilibrium' and when the roar of the motorcycle engine peaks, as well as a known bellow of Ballistic…. Her sister came…

Velocity pushes to all fours, broken wood, pillar, and dust untouched by the rains ralls from the arch of her spine that is a reverse-cradle over Abi, staring at the atrocity caused to her. "…I'm sorry…" Whispered, perhaps unheard?

Arms scoop the woman up as she looks up towards Lucia with the defaced woman in her arms.

"I lack the necessary gross…" Vel looks from Lucia towards the Slender, then as she hefts Abi into her arms and slides her feet beneath her, now both lacking boots (all the better!). "I will not have Italian for a long time." A pause as she rises and struggles for a moment with the weight and shifts in time for the ground beneath her to vibrate.

"Back in a Jiff." A glance from Lucia to Cass and the 'Nun' in a peripheral glance.

"End this!" A moment there and then gone, Vel is catching up to the Farmer in his go-cart, the back door flicgs open as terra is kicked up around the pasenger side of the vehicle.

A slap to the 'flank' of the car-t and it jolts forward before Vel slams the door shut and heads back.

"…. What are they doing…?" Cyberdata has reached a different kind of horrific low.

.. and whose the other chick??


Ballistic's lip curls into a genuine snarl. A snarl of defiance against the telepathy rattling around in her head, she twists her hips against the seat of her motorcycle and swings her cybernetic arm up. The 'Nun's' face fits squarely into the iron sights of the blaster pistol.

"Knock it with the head-talking, Mary Theresa." Ballistic replies, jaw going slack as the nun begins to open her robe. "No." It opens more. "NO. Don't want to see that. NO."

With superhuman agility, Ballistic bounds off of her motorcycle, dodging the trail of knives that pepper the ground around her as she dances. Knives in her motorcycle. Knives in a fence. Knives everywhere, like Oprah's giving them away for free, or shuriken being thrown by the hundreds in a Japanese animation flick.

Ballistic bounces through the mud behind a fence. "Stop asking why and kill them back!" Ballistic barks gruffly to the two women, sprouting up with her gun in one hand, squeezing off round after round as she runs towards Lucia's position.


Perhaps to some dismay Lucia will find the nanites being shed off of the Slenderman like dying bugs. Rippling away as it reasserts whatever alien will and power it has over its own body. The creature bows forward, feet and hands upon the ground as elbows and knees jut out, that tongue lolling forward, swinging out of that wreckage of a mouth. No eyes yet it stares fixated upon Lucia as Velocity races past to grab Abigail then zips away with just as much gutso and panache.
The tip right to left of Slenderman's head has those teeth chattering again, tongue thrashing about. Lucia will understand why her connection with the nanites is so weak against this thing, the Godtech. These 'Deadliners' are laced differently with it. It's alive with them unlike the rest of the SHOC. They are not brainwashed or brainboxed. They have embraced a doctrine. A… religion and the Godtech has responded. They are disciples.

The Nun's skin around her mouth peels back in what can only be a smile. Teeths outside portions shown off and the gums below. As Ballistic fires a hole appears in her neck, another in her shoulder. Large puncture wounds from the hail of bullets. A jerk to the side and the knives that were previously launched out start to recoil back, drawn on barbed wire like tethers. They lash in their return, scissoring wildly through the air at the amazingly acrobatic Ballistic. Who will now be tested by razoring barbwire and blades that flail with a life of their own.

We are the punitive children, the agents of demise. Our task is the enlightenment of weaklings like you. Are you ready to become my student in the ways of our master? Our savior? The Black Nun weaves back and forth in a dancers display around bullet fire, each shift, jerk or twist of her body from hips to upper swats those blades about in a flay.

Far away another howl is rolled out, a familiar one to Velocity and Ballistic. Ripclaw is in his own altercation with the Deadliners.

The farmer and Abi are on their way, and although Slenderman shrugs off the picomachines it at least gives Lucia the opportunity to scoop up the gun,"'s not your damned saviour. You fetish-shop reject." racking the gun is easy, and she doesn't pause to threaten but simply fires at the grotesque before her. But with the civilians out of the way and two lots of Cyberdata personnel on site, apparently she figures this is a good opportunity to try and make a break for it, too.

It's not a coincidence that she breaks in the direction of the barn. Large mechanical objects, surely this farm has some somewhere, she's got no delusions that the gun is going to do anything more than slow Slenderman down.


Her sister….

Another …Like them

Ripclaws howl that strikes a tingle to align her sine and stop Velocity in her tracks as she stares across the small field towards the farmhouse and her eyes dart to and fro. Rip is alone, each is alone, they are not teaming!… Carin's pale jaw tenses. Lucia may be new, but they are all family to Velocity if they Rise Against…

In the middle of a field, lacking sunlight, every panted breath a fog before her as green eyes dart to and fro as if measuring, weighing…

A rapid tap to her ear, the comm unit… "When did separating sound okay?!?" And if Ballistic tapped in somewhere in there she will hear it too.

"The other (Lucia) gave me that stank eye, but seems okay! Let's keep her (Lucia) close…In fact…" The nun outfit is creepy and Velocity is not a pray-er but if there is any time to say a Hail Mary…

"Coming in Hot." A redirect and the golden lines behind Velocity crackle to take her Ripclaw's way, zipping through distance and obstacles to try and reach the fight he is squaring off to…. Take him? No… He can catch up…. Instead if his opposition is movable at high speed she is seeking to grab them up and drag them to the farm so they can be close…


Close scattered is better than far-apart.


Ballistic pumps the legs of her shredded blue jeans as fast as her body will carry her on the circle around the hellish nun. The charge meter in her pistol goes from green to a pale, yellowish-green by the end of the first salvo. The first assault of the knives end, giving her the split seconds needed to look around, taking stock of Lucia and Velocity's positions on the field.

"Separating isn't so bad. I'll cover both of you! New girl, don't stop running!" Ballistic shouts like she's some kind of authority. She'd be the first of her kind in a jeans with a tear in the ass and a tank top with a Jack Daniels logo on it. "Yell out if you're in trouble! Fu-"

The second assault of blades flashes after Ballistic. Her cybernetic arm tracks point to point with accuracy, firing shots at many of the blades coming in, but she can't get all of them. Mid-cartwheel, she's sliced in six places, one of which is a deep cut into her hip.

Ballistic's motorcycle boots splatter mud as she lands, turning to run with the others for the barn, but first?

The blaster pistol bucks in her hands, shooting only to the Nun's left side. Each shot getting closer and closer to the Nun in an attempt to drive her closer to the motorcycle she's left behind.

"Sorry, baby." Ballistic whispers. She points the gun at the cycle's gas tank…and pulls the trigger.


Slenderman's head rockets back with the shot from the gun, the creature twists aside but not fast enough the leather shredding to reveal a skull underneath and with the thunderclap of the guns pulled trigger it vanishes. Disappearing off the porch.

That hell Nun isn't speaking now at least, the rictus smile it sports lookings harsh, drawn as its motions have become more mechanical, focused while trying to tear apart Ballistic. There… right there is the spot. The sound coming from the Nun sounds almost erotic in tone, a moan until she realizes Ballistic only slowed to take a shot, one shes been lining up. The motorcycle EXPLODES in an enveloping spray of fire and shrapnel throwing the Nun face down, the leather of her suit peeling, melting and mingling with the flesh and metal beneath. A wail of pain that could also be pleasure emits from her.

As Velocity streaks through the forest to see Ripclaw she sees a creature above the Native, fat, built as though it were fleshy cupcakes stacked upon itself only in human form. Body encased in more of that shiny leather, each flap that hungdown possesses a mouth full of cybernetic teeth, the head coning up to a point. Features far too small and each massive hand capped in meaty thick hands. Hands that look like they're meant for clubbing. There is no way Velocity can carry or move such a beast but Ripclaw, he rolls over on to his elbows and knees, one hand reaches out to her and as she zips by he latches on to her forearm, torn free of his losing battle to be drug through the forests until his feet are finding motion.

Like a wild animal or part feralmode Tarzan he is making his way after her, staggering in to the clearing just outside the farmhouse.
"You found our mark?" He rasps, his face a puffy mess. One eye not even visible with lips pressed out blood seeping down the side of his head.


Lucia doesn't have Velocity's speed, or… well, Ballistic's firepower. She doesn't wait to see where Slenderman got to, she beelines for the barn and wrenches it open. Jackpot. A hay baler may not exactly win for the most terrifying looking tool, but what it has… is electronics, and no mind of its own to lock her out. The gun is tossed down in the straw for the moment so she can lay hands on the machine and infest it her with her will, bring it rumbling to life. One's easy. It's the bail wrapper that's another level of difficult. They might lack guns or… speed, but well, they're big and rumbly and in the least she might be able to gift-wrap Slenderman temporarily.

Granted, the sudden driverless machines rumbling to life aren't likely to dispel any horror movie impressions any time soon as Lucia backs up to reclaim the gun and send her new 'minions' to lurch out into the darkness. So far, at least, she decides not to go with adding the milking machines to her 'arsenal' however, diverting her attention between the machines and her own immediate surrounds is taxing enough.


Velocity hit "Cupcake" at high speed and ended ass over elbow backwards!

But her eyes landed on the puddle of Ripclaw and instead she takes the one she knows she can! lift!

All good plans (in Dreams) go to waste, but she at east gets legs beneath the fallen Native and plants him when he can keep up and they clear the fencing of the farm. "Our mark?" A moment of a glance that blurs before Vel is goneGirl! "A mark…" But not before her finger rapid-taps Ripclaw's earpiece to try and get him on channel.

"Dark hair, pale eyes… So far… she's on our side!" Erupting from the field in time to slam the brakes before the exploding bike! "Ca—— Balls…" Ballsy Sistrkins? But the path towards the barn is noted before ass disappears in the shadows. "This doesn't go well in "Camp Cu(Stu)Pid!" Velocity yells, comm or not she has suffered many a horror(films), but as mud pits a path towards the Nun and her rictous grin bearing rabid feralness her eyes widen.

Then close! Looking away from the snow-screen of a bunny-eared TV of youth to her.

"Nope…NONONOOnopenope!!" Even if it doesn't stop the 'Nun', her moves are a Michael Jackson Moonwalk miced with a Monkeystomp.



"Fucking Rhode Island." Said no one but Ballistic, ever. Mourning the loss of her motorcycle, she presses a finger to her ear and jogs after Lucia towards the barn. "One down. Maybe. Sex nun had a gasoline explosion problem. Don't know where the others are, but I've got eyes on the mark." Ballistic chimes in over the comm line, frowning at the lines of blood streaking down the front of her shirt and jeans. "Was that the only car in the area?"

Ballistic hops back the last few steps and swings her pistol out, checking for targets. Her metallic arm claps against the barn's door as she opens it a little more, ducking in to the sound of the farm equipment chug-chugging.

"Okay, look here, sister." Ballistic keeps the line open, eyes flashing Lucia's way. "Don't shoot the pretty ones." She presses her back against the barn wall, keeping clear of the machines she's…animating. She points a gun at one, looking to Lucia's face with caution.

"Keep together with us and you might make it to tomorrow with working lungs."


The rattle bang clang of the now walking bailers is a new sound, loud to those with augmented hearing and the ban so far looks clear as those techno-animated troops stomp out to engage the Deadliners. The Nun lay where Ballistic had put her. Slenderman no where to be seen and Cupcake, hes not seen.

Ripclaw staggers in to view of the rest, long dark hair hiding his face from view. Its a gorey mess and he can't see to well anyways. "I need to sit." The barn is going to be their Alamo?

"There is more in the woods. At least two.." His way in wards pushes him back Ballistic, a fond pat on the shoulder while he makes his way past, "You're one of Corben's pupils?"

Out in the field beyond Velocity's dance and the stomping animated clankers form in all black stands, too far away to make out fully. Two more join it to stand on either side. "Cupcake" recognizable. Slenderman is not there. No, Lucia's techno-sense can feel him out prowling in circles, looking for an opening. This means there are four still. Four to their four.

"We will have the speaker." A new voice, not the Nuns. The pale headed man with the black suit. Too far away to make out his features without zooming in. "Ripclaw, Ballistic. Please, recall the stories of the Deadliners and know the horror you will face if you do not release her to us.


"You're Cyberdata." it's not really a question for Lucia, she can sense the cybernetics in Ballistic just as well as the freakshows. Still, the baler doesn't make an immediate movement towards the other woman in favor of heading for the fields beyond. She's not entirely comfortable with just the two, evinced by the way her eyes slide over the rest of the machinery. Woodchipper? Woodchipper. Why not? She backs slowly in its direction, the jerk of her hands echoed by the machines when Ripclaw suddenly appears.

"Corben?" she didn't mean it to sound like that, the breath sucked in afterwards, but apparently it's a nudge in the right direction at least,"There's four of them out there. I'm… look, they killed everyone. They would have killed these people, too, if not for your friend out there. So." at least the machinery stops for now. Not that in and of itself it's all that /menacing/ aside from the lack of obvious human controller, but still.


Velocity is shaking her feet off like she stepped in dog-dookie as she races into the barn before the doors close behind her, but first..

Ballistic is scanned, her bike a non-entity…

Ripclaw… A further draw of upper lip.

Lucia. Green eyes flash on her in a manner that fits the lightning bolt tattoo lining a single eye, rimmed in unnaturally pale skin. "Funny…" Step-/y/- time towards the wood-chipper as the other machines step forth on their own and Ballistic and Ripclaw are called out. Velocity's head tilts.

"If you are with us, not them, I will help you…" Pitch them in the chipper??

Vel is already pale, it can't get any worse…

Hur-blee… Her stomach concurs!

"Dead….what?!" Lucia is no longer the dirct object of her attention, even if her mind is working on how to help Cass and Robert while she tries to be BIGIMPOSING…

Screeching halt…

"I don't thing that means whatIthinkitMeans…"

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