Shadow seeks Shadow

July 04, 2018:

In which on killer shadow tracks another and Scandal ends up with a new bracelet.


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Things have not been normal for the past two weeks in Gotham. Something is prowling the night. Something with magic…terrifying magic. Primal magic. Something at the core of the world in a way. It has been appearing and dissappearing all over Gotham but has mostly stayed in the East End and Bowery areas. Whatever is causing it could very well be tied to the rumors that people have been whispering about death itself going through Gotham. Whispers of light and dark. Whispers of shadow and white. Things have been strange and it is only recently getting the attention of the police beyond the simplicity of them thinking there's just an animal on the loose or a murderer.

Even now, magic lingers in a particular area. The area of the most recent murder. A boy had his throat ripped clean out. As if some great animal had torn it free of him. That's the word on the street. Everything has been cleaned up now and roped off. There's still some stains of blood on the ground but evidence has been collected and body taken.

It is the feel and flavor and stench of the magic that draws the elf. He's come to this dark city off and on. He's found a magical bauble now and again. He's met a woman in a cat's skin. Now, he's perched on the ledge of a building, perring down at the stains of human blood on the ground, sampling the lingering magic in the area. This was not here the last time he was.

Not that one should ever take the timing of an immortal timeless being at face value. They tend not to see the difference between an hour and a day, a day and a week, a week and a century.

Darkedge slips from shadow to shadow, disappearing from teh roof's ledge and emerging from the shadow of an inset doorway near the crime scene, inside hte tape markers. The blook draws him, but it is not what he is studying. His silver eyes are lidded as he senses and works to make himself familiar with the taste of this magic in the air.

When he starts into the area, he can see the stain on the ground. It's an alleyway. Deep, probably 100 feet long. It links two streets and provides a back area to two buildings. A place for trash and perhaps deliveries. About ten feet in from the front of the alleyway, a blood trail begins along with a splatter from the initial attack. Then the blood goes on for twenty more feet before going to the wall.

Based on the blood next to and on the wall, this is where death occurred. Whoever died was either dragged or dragged themselves to this point. Of course, the magic is another story.

The magic is not a scent one would enjoy. Savage, primal, whatever caused it or uses it is old. Very old. Older than Darkedge by more than a little. Possibly older than even Avalon. Then there's something else. There is another scent that is something akin to hope. It's not though, it's more like…acceptance. It's odd. Both scents are the same. One savage and one tame. Intertwined. The same and yet complete opposites. Almost like two paths to the same end.

The feel and taste of it curl the elf's upper lip, making his eyes narrow. A trained killer, he reads the blood stains for what they are, the spllater of initial attack, the slow pained drag, the point of death. Magic 'in his nose', the elf shadow steps back to the rooftops, back to get some distance between himself and that twisting, undulating, pugnant aroma of an old magic of dual natures. He inhales, as if that would clear his head, using the motion to pull in a fresh feel of magic around him. There is now something else to track, to find, within this city. Something new to watch, and should it seem a threat to Avalon or faekind, something new to kill.

The magic was something that was very different. It wasn't easy to track either. It disappeared. He could sense it going west for maybe a couple hundred yards and…gone. Of course, if he looks around he can faintly sense it in various parts of the city. Weaker in some, stronger in others. Whatever this is, it can move in and out of this world as it pleases. That or it can turn its own magic on and off. Either way, the seemingly strongest source of magic brings Darkedge toward the more latino area of the East End. When he finally arrives, he'll notice that the scent he sensed under the terrible, excited, dark primal scent is stronger here. The calm, peaceful scent is dominant now. Looking down in the streets he can see various businesses. One seems to stand out though as it is the cleanest and nice looking.

A small cafe with the name Papa Julio's. It has many people there. There's a small party going on. A mariachi band is playing outside and an older man stands at the door, smiling and greeting people. If Darkedge pays attention, people offer the man respect as well as joyful greetings. All walks are here. From simple folk living their lives to bussiness owners to even those seemingly dressed up as gangbangers. All are enjoying the time.

The patience of an immortal, Darkedge tracks the magic aruond the city, moving from shadow to shadow, stopping to sense, lingeirng to taste the air, moving on when the scent dies away.

When at last he is above a human gathering, the magic lingering strongly below, he peeks over the edge and the nrecoils sharply at the too bright lights spilling out onto the street. The shades he'd been given by some rather helpful humans are pulled from his belt and placed over his eyes. They are like ski-boarder goggles, completely plastic, but made of the dark polymer found in a wielder's mask. His silver hair is hidden by a hood. Protected, the dark elf once more leans over the edge to look.

From what he can see, there's nothing to see. Well, other than a party. Down below, a woman somewhat stands out from the crowd in her mannerisms. She's a trained warrior. In a way, the man who is by the door is, too. They both hold a stance that is recognizable by those that fight. A stance that is ready despite the relaxed atmosphere. Most, even the gang bangers are either people who have never seen a lick of violence up close or have simply tasted it. These two have caused it. Either way though, no magical creatures or the like.

"We'll get to the bottom of this, Julio." Scandal says to the man as she stands there, "Don't worry. It's good of you to throw a party like this. Get people's minds off things." She nods her head and leans into the wall near Julio and looks at the others, "Everyone getting together and having a good time for the holiday."

The trained warriors are by far the most interesting people here, if not magical. But then, what's drawn him? Where's the source?

Crouching low, the elf slips from the shadow on the roof to the shadow so very near the two talkin, easvesdropping shamelessly while trying to get closer to the party he doesn't understnad, hoping for a better scent-trail.

"It is not that I don't think you can do it, Scandal. It's that there are lots of people out there and lots of loved ones." The man Julio states and looks to her, "You know what I'm sayin'? I just…" The old man shifts slightly and stops talking, "…just think that it is best that we are careful with our words." He nods his head.

"I see, careful with our words." She nods her head and then takes a breath before Julio, as fast as a snake, has a pistol in his hand and is aiming it past his body. His movements are cheetah fast. Impressive for a man in his 60s and Scandal is only sorta stepping around the old man with her hand palming a throwing knife. They are both aiming Darkedge's way though not perfectly. The perhaps most impressive part is how theyh both keep a demeanor of calm. One arm covers what the other arm is doing. People at the party thinking the pair are still just talking.

"Oye, muchacho." Julio calls, "I do not know you but sneaking in the shadows on a week like this is rather unsafe for your health, wouldn't you say? Slide out so we can see you." He takes a soft breath, "Slowly."

Human reactions are so intriguing. Some are so fearful of him. They run and scream and are so noisy. The children try to grab his ears and tug on his hair. These two draw weapons calmly, point them just to the left of his head, above his shoulder. And they still manage to look so calm.

'Oye, muchacho'. Darkedge recalls that tongue, a little. He's not as fmailiar with it as he is with thise English he's been speaking, but since they stick to English, the elf straightens slowly, just as calmly.

Out where we can see… means out into the light and away from the shadows. Darkedge frowns for a moment before he schools his features. He'll meet them half way, stepping just far enough into the light that his form can be seen, but not so far that he can't just sink back into the shadows and step himself across teh street. And in no way of form is he turning his face toward that blasted light filled doorway. The hood shadows his face.

"You will make things unsafe for my health?" asks the elf. His voice is deeper than his lithe frame suggests, and raspy as if he just woke up or hasn't spoken in weeks. There's a musical lilt to his words, an accent that is otherworldly and inhuman.
"When something stalks the shadows, those who stalk in it might get shot first and questions may get asked later." Julio replies and nods his head, "What business do you have here tonight that you slip up so quietly?"

Scandal looks to Julio and nods to him before looking to Darkedge, "And who are you?" She asks even as she steps closer to him, not too close but she's definitely not afraid, "I don't like being spied on and this is a happy occasion, I'd rather keep it that way."
[OOC] Darkedge says, "Knowing that warriors and mercenaries both cna often tell when someone is dangerous, I am COMPLETELY okay with them feeling that 'danger' sense kick off because of him."

Chin inclines in wordless acknowledgement of the elder's comments. Behind the dark of his lenses, Darkedge's silver eyes watch as the woman, Scandal, moves closer. She's unafriad, but she's wary. His head turns then toward her, making the act of his scrutinity of her more obvious. His chin dips toward her; a nod of respect and greeting and please no closer.

"There is magic here, human," replies the elf, face turning back toward Julio as his delicate four-fingered hands come up to pull the hood down.

Human hair goes silver with age. This elf, his features locked in eternal youth, has hair the color of the blade of a sword. His skin is the pale of someone who has never seen the sun. His hans, four fingered, look like a huamn's, if the pinky was jus tnot there. The points of his long tapered ears are visible, parting out of the silvery silk of hier hair.

"For the moment, it seems not the be dangerous," he says, before his face turns slightly toward the light, the party. His lips press into a line and he turns his face away again.

"Your children are, for the moment safe," he states, hinting that this may not remain the case. His attention slides toward Scandal, finally answering her question.

"I am the Queen's Blade, called Darkedge."

Stopping, Scandal nods to him and then states, "Magic?" She consideres a moment, "That thing…" She looks to Julio who is already cutting his eyes her way briefly before he slowly slides the gun away. He's aware that this lef is dangerous but not at the moment. He also trusts that Scandal can act better than he. Either way, he turns a little, "Scandal, I'm gonna make sure everyone is happy." He nods and then he turns and starts toward the crowd.

"Ok, Julio. Speak to you later." And then she looks back at Darkedge, "What do you know about what is happening?" She asks.

Faintly though…far behind him. Seemingly not heard by Scandal, Darkedge can hear a faint humming. If he looks, no one is there.

Darkedge watches the two interact, and the elder turn to tend to the young within. His gaze return to Scandal.

"There is a magical creature, or person, on the loose. It has killed. It is of …two mind, or of two facets. For the moment, here, it is calm, but-" The elf stops speaking, body tensing. He turns his head, looking back into the darkness behind him, reaching up to uncover his eyes so he can see the shadows better.

«Do you hear that?» his mind presses at the human still talking to him as the fine hair at the back of his neck stand on end, forgetting that not all humans can hear telepathy.

Pushing against her mind shows that he is throwing words at a wall. She hears but she also seems to shut him down fast as she says, "Don't…do that." She is, however, also on edge, stepping slowly away from the party and looking around, "What did you hear?" She asks and glances this way and that, "Whatever this thing or things are…" She looks carefully at the elf, "Wait…did you hear humming or laughter?" She asks and tilts her head at him.

Then it gets worse. He has turned to look toward the humming. However, he can hear something again…still behind him.

This time directly behind him. However, it appears this time Scandal heard it, too as she whips around to find…only the light of the party.

Thoughts rejected. Darkedge has encountered that too. No matter. He draws a breath, summoning the words to describe what he heard when it would be easier to just share the sound, but then it's against behind him. He turns, wincing at the light, his silver eyes gleaming brightly. In his hand, a blade of diamond seems almost to suddenly appear.

"Music, a song, a child's voice?" he manages, stepping back toward the darkness and away from that light.

"I heard it too, this time. I've heard it before." She nods her head and then starts backing up with him. She looks over her shoulder slowly, turning in her spot and then shakes her head, "I don't know what this is." She nods again as she licks her lips and then starts to slip away. She seems more comfortable in darkness even as she slips down near but not next to Darkedge, "It was also…" And then but from everywhere at once. It sounds as if it has a source and yet pinpointing it, even for the sharpest of ears seems impossible.

«Nor I.»"Nor I." There's a delay in his verbal words, having defaulted to telepathy. Glasses reattached to his belt, Darkedge moves down the alley, listening, and when the delicate laughter shifts to something more sinister, he pauses and inhales, sensing for that magic again. it was light, calm, peaceful. Only the under tone spoke of death, destruction, evil.

Strangely, it lacks evil. There's no ill intent. No darkness. Terrible as it may be. Horrible even to some. There's no malice. Only excitement, terrible finality, and a calm peace overriding it all. Either way. The magic is old and powerful and yet…it isn't permeating like one might expect if the thing were truly present. Nearby a trashcan shakes and falls over. Out of the corner of Darkedge's eye something white seems to prance out of the corner of his vision. Shining in the darkness despite how dark it is.

Scandal is on edge, whipping this way and that even as she spots a shadow moving. She winces as she hears things and then says, "I don't know what this thing is but this is as close to it as I have gotten so far." Out of the sleeves of the jacket she is wearing come blades from her wrists and she swallows slowly. Then out of the darkness nearby a deep growling voice speaks, "It thinks it can beat us!" And then softly from somewhere above, "This is called denial."

"It is old. Dark. A magic of two natures," the elf tries to explain what he senses of it. Silly humans and disliking the feel of mind to mind communication. It's just easier, faster, more precise than this clumsy sound based speech he's forced to do. He isn't whiping back and forth, but he is wary, ready for the fight that he suspects may soon come. He listens, with ears and with mind, inhaling and trying to find where that magic is coming from.

When they speak, Scandal goes still. She is trying to listen but she can't seem to pin point. It's impossible from what it seems. Either way, whatever was speaking is not visible at the moment. Scandal looks over at the elf and hmms before looking back around.

"Not here…not yet." The soft lilting woman's voice comes and then a gruff and angry chuff follows. Then the magic fades. Scandal looks to the Elf again and then back around, "How old are you talking?"

The scent fades, like it has so many times tonight. It makes Darkedge frown again and his stance relax.

"Older than my Queen. Possibily other than Elf and Fae. I do not have numbers as you do, to count such things," he replies, his tone sounding a little annoyed. His hand open and the blades withdraw on their own into his sleeves. Much as hers had done, only the blades are far too long to simply rest against the inside of his forearms.

"The magic is gone," he states, maybe needlessly, while he turns and settles his metallic silver gaze on Scandal.

"Do you fight this? Track it? For I shall be. I will not allow it threathen the live of fae on your realm."

"I do track it." She states and looks over at the elf, "I don't know you from anyone else, Darkedge, but if you are out to stop this thing, then we are in this together." She nods her head, "If you have some way to be contacted?" She asks and tilts her head even as she looks him over and then looks around again, just in case some shadow or white thing might come racing out of no where.

Where Scandal is nerves, the elf is not. He can sense that the magic source is gone. There is no more need to be wary beyond what is mundanely there, the banality of hte human condition. His gloved hadn dips into a pouch at his hip. Three large mrable-sized stones rest in his palm. Two are the dark green of a rich pure flawless emerald, the other the bright summer green of a peridot. His eyes glitter and the stones seem to glow softly. he brings his other hand over, rubbing the stones with his finger tips where they distort like putty. A roll of his hand and the stones ooze into each other, twisting into a coiled braid of a circle, just big enough for her to slip past her hand and onto a wrist. It's slim enough to stay hidden, thick enough not to look too delicate. Bracelet shaped, the elf holds the bit of jewelry that when appraised would be flawless, faceted perfectly to catch the light and the shadows, without a hint of tool marks.

"I can find you with this," he informs. It's the best he has since he doesn't understand modern technology yet at all.

She takes it and nods, "Umm, thanks." She looks at it carefully before sliding it awya, "If you say so." She then looks over at the area around again before saying, "I'm heading back to the party. Be careful." SHe nods her head and heads back.

The elf bows slightly, then vanishes into a shadow as she turns around; gone as silent as a shadow.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License