Mystic Museum Mayhem

August 10, 2018:

The Lilim go to the museum to check some old papers. Of course they also kill everyone because, well, demons. A few heroes fight to stop them. Emits by Dr. Strange (who is not in the scene)

Metropolis Museum of Science

A futuristic glass building with the best Lexcorp technology


NPCs: The Lilin Fang, Blackout, Bad Timing and Bloodthirst

Mentions: Doctor Strange, Wong

Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Sunset was an hour or so ago and the museum has been closed for the public since 7. Except for some sections that are not exactly open to everyone, but certainly for college students and professors, which are just closing now.

This being Metropolis the Museum of Science is a futuristic three stories glass building, beautiful and modern, equipped with the best of Lexcorp security. There was a silent alarm going a few minutes ago. Then a blackout. The last few visitors were asked to leave by the guards, which went investigating.

That was fifteen minutes ago.

The past few weeks Doctor Strange has been warning every friend and ally he has about the danger of the Lilim and Lilith. He has planed to depart Earth with Thor and a few other members of the Justice League soon, he wants all the remained mystical heroes knowing and alerted.

Late today some of those allies were asked to check a rather cryptic warning coming from the Orb of Agamotto. The Museum of Science of Metropolis is not known to have any supernatural device or relic of importance. But in truth there is a constant coming and going of archeological discoveries sent for analyzing or brought from other museums for the exhibits. Almost anything could be there in a given moment.

And right now…

There are three police cruisers at the main gates of the museum, and a few more in the area. Only two cops are at the front, though, since the others went inside and never returned. Not responding the high-tech communicators they carry either.

The Special Crime Unit is on the way. Regular policemen have been told not to approach the building.

Vivienne had received a call, and taken it, expecting, perhaps to have received another invitation to breakfast. The actual import of the phone call she had received from Wong though, that put her on alert, and she had, having stopped at her place only long enough to suit up, as it were, made her way down to Metropolis, driving very much as though she were back in Europe where there were no such things as speed signs. She had made a few calls, picked up anyone along the way who needed it, before she began the trip. It was a miracle, of sorts, that she did not find herself pulled over, but there you are. Miracles weren't all about turning water into wine.

Having 'listened' really well to the guards, Adara totally 'left' the museum. Meaning…she slipped away and hid for a bit till she heard the guards leave and then she started doing her own investigating. She first stripped (privately in a bathroom!) down and activated the stone as quietly as she could. She held the flames at bay while wearing the armor, then she slipped along after the guards. She didn't want them hurt or anyone else for that matter.

Of course, then she rounds a corner and gasps. She takes a step back and stares unblinking at a pair of dead bodies. Each with a slit throat, she twitches and swallows slowly as she stares at them and then takes in a slow breath before then justs as slowly letting it out. She nods her head and whispers to herself, "Don't freak out…you can do this…" And then she looks up and keeps moving, shifting around the poor dead guards as she heads past them, looking for some form of a clue as to who or what did this eve as her heart rate accelerates.

Inside the museum everything is quiet. Normal lights are out, but the glass walls allow the light from the street in, and there are some low-light lamps giving faint illumination to the rooms, brighter in the hallways between exhibits.

Enough to see the bloody footsteps on the tiled floor. The killer was not particularly careful, the tracks lead to the staircase. On the other hand Adara can hear heavy footsteps coming from the other direction.

Outside the museum Magdalena can see some policemen on the obvious entrances. Regular cops used to patrol one of the safest neighborhoods in the City of Tomorrow. They don't watch the entrances ninja-people would use. Climbing the glass walls of the museum was fairly challenging, but the door of the rooftop was low security. And if an alarm was triggered (it was) well, the police is already there.

Two security guards were in the top floor. They lie by the Norse culture exhibit, throats slit expertly.

Robert's focus is having been forced towards the broad side of things lately, one struggle after another, Lara Croft's plight and the Artifacts his primary concern but he also has a task to work alongside the Sorcerer Supreme in safeguarding this realm.

His place is alongside Vivienne and earlier Adara, who had stayed the night with the woman after Tom Judge stormed out. This at least gave some recollection of one another if they hadn't been able to yet breach the subject further of the Artifacts…

Robert is dressed in casual wear, a tshirt, jeans, cowboy boots and a longsleeved button up shirt thats tight on his arms in its grey and black crossthatch, it hides his arms but not the shaped silver claws hes concentrating on keeping small for now. Less lethal…

Vivienne, approaching the museum, lifted a hand to rake it across her belt, a soft prayer on her lips as she circled the building, finding the most likely place to begin to ascent. Thankfully, the panes around the windows were substantial, and she managed enough handholds to get up and onto the roof. There was no hope, really, that her opening the roof access wouldn't trigger an alarm, but such was life when you did not think ahead to bring your mascot along with you. And so, the stairs, and down towards the stairwell, and the museum proper. The smell of blood, r perhaps the sense of something amiss drew her towards the Norse exhibit and the guards there. Throats examined. No rending of claws, but something finer. A light press of her hand to each man's shoulder, a prayer for each of them, and Vivienne rose to move on, knowing there was nothing to be done for them.

It is the bloody footprints that draw Adara. Sure there are footsteps but she's thinking they might be police and she doesn't wanna be mistaken for the killer so she slips as quietly a she can toward the stairs. SHe starts moving down them ccarefully, following the footprints and carefully not stepping into any blood herself. She is perhaps just missed by Vivienne as she is heading quietly after a potential murderer.

Heavy footsteps stop as Adara sneaks towards the staircase, but then there are voices. "Blood…" a whispering one, barely audible. "Ah, there you are halfbreed," a rough, louder one. "Four of those blue-clad city guards came through the front door, they were… tasty," a low chuckle. A snort of disbelief is the response.

The stairs to the basement are probably more inviting that the talk about eating cops behind her!

Upstairs Magdalena and Ripclaw can verify the museum guards were killed using a sharp knife. They had flashlights on their hands, which is odd as it is not dark enough for those to be required. Ripclaw enhanced senses indicate the killer was a man and immediately went to the staircase to the lower level, avoiding the high-tech elevators.

Voices can be heard from the first floor, too. A guttural, not quite human one.

Robert in his list of proficiencies is a tracker, by scent and supernatural gift. The blood is unmistakable to him, his nose curling as he follows Vivienne up the traditional urban vigilante method, kneeling down to touch some of it he looks up, his eyes cutting through any darkness with a keen low light capability not that it is necessary, "Still here. I count… " He stops, the sounds elsewhere of Adara and the rest up the staircase have him frowning. A wound is compared to one of his own bladed fingers, now elongated.

"We're going to have a fight." He states.

Vivienne waited long enough to allow Robert to evaluate the bodies, in case the Ghost Walker might see what she could not. But the sound of a voice in the stairs getting her attention, "So, business as usual, then." She ducked into the stairs, trusting that Robert would follow behind her or at least find his own way. She might have allowed him to go ahead of her, but, perhaps she wanted to keep his abilities in reserve. The spear she withdrew, keeping it at hand length, but gripping it firmly in hand as she descended.

Halting at the voices, Adara looks back and stares. She twitches a little more and hten continues after the footprints. She shakes her head slowly and keeps going as she swallows softly. She has no idea anyone other than evil cannibals are here now. She tries to hide a bit of a whine. This isn't like normal criminals. This is weird. Real weird but…but justice must be done. Darn it! So she presses on.

Downstairs Adara finds the flashy super-modern look of the museum fades into a normal set of offices and storage rooms. Only the labs keep the sci-fi feel of the upstairs museum, and show why Metropolis is considered one of the major centers of learning and research of the whole world.

But the labs look empty. Bloody footprints, now much faded, seem to lead to the further storage rooms under the museum proper. Yes, there are lights on there.

Upstairs there the couple killers are silent. Robert can still hear someone large moving, and smell two. One human, or almost, the other strange, alien. And indeed, just outside the stairs they wait.

"Told you I heard them coming, Bloodthirst" says a tall albino man, his smile showing long fangs. He pulls out a blood-stained combat knife, but stays in place.

The other is a big red-skinned humanoid with glowing yellow eyes and three-fingered hands ending in sharp talons. His mouth is full of sharp teeth, like a shark. He steps forward, "foolish mortals, you should have stayed out…" he draws breath, tasting the air. "Oh, this one is a shaman, but also full of metal. Weird. The other has a magical weapon or two, I think." Look like Bloothirst is a chatty one.

"Of course. Why would you expect different?" The man says without a grin but tone holds his sarcastism, the red eyed albino he is finds the visage of their enemy a little irritating once they have eyes on him, Robert is hunching, like an animal about to pounce. His claws lengthen outwards from several inches to near a foot appiece.

"Which one do you want to play with?" He offers Magdalena.

Not giving either of them any dialogue, instead carrying on with Vivienne as though they were just something to be lined up and torn down… not conversed with. As most dread things are…

Vivienne, pausing as she saw the two, well, nominally men facing them, simply tightened her hold on the spear, clenching her free hand, the radiance she had summoned welling out from between her fingertips. "That's the trouble with evil villains. They're so chatty." She tipped her chin, opening her hand to allow the light to wash over them, "Are you coming up?" She did not look back at Robert, trusting him to either back her play, or go his own way. Though she might regret the thought another time, this was what he had been remade for.

A look over at the faded prints and the light on the storage room, Adara swallows and then steels herself. She walks up to the door and then pushes through it and looks around, standing tall and preparing herself for whatever she ight see.


"Oooh, look at it. The pale skin, red eyes, bad breath… this mortal could be your fatter, uglier brother Blackout," mocks Bloodthirst. "Know, little shaman, I am Lilim and I was born long before the first stones were set on Rome’s walls. I have slain a thousand human warriors in battle!"

Yes, chatty, but when he moves he is fast (and strong) as a big cat, and those claws are growing to match Ripclaw's in size. He doesn't 'share', he is trying to tear through Ripclaw and Magdalena both with a single leap and claw-slash.


Adara can hear voices coming from the storage room. Two men. "Check the other box, we should have come earlier and caught one of the curators, taking too long," there is a young-looking man, tall and slender, mop of auburn hair. Looks fairly normal, although his ears are pointed. He is going through a series of crates.

"We are just in time," comments the other man. "Now the little dragon will come," this one is of average height but burly build, and dressed in rags. Tanner skin, light brown hair cut in a punkish style, all normal except his left eye is glowing red.

"A what…" the tall man looks up irritated. "You deal with him," he growls. "Her, I will deal with -her- replies red-eye. "You can come out!" He shouts, stepping to meet Adara. "My name is Bad Time, I can seeeeee youuu."

Robert's hunch unfurls as he rises up, a snarl rumbles through him and he leaps to meet Bloodthirst with an outstretched claw of his own and a deflecting inner one. He is ready for the dance, he knows his companion is as well.

"Lets end your streak then." The albino-shaman promises…

A gash appearing across his ribs in the first passing from the Lilim but Robert doesn't slow, Ripclaw presses the attack to spin and pursue with a matched ferocity, power and grace. Bad Time's shout claim is acknowledged as well, he presumes that means he'll be out of his way….

"Robert, the other, I'll handle this one!" Vivienne stepped in, moving to try to insinuate herself between Robert and the Lilim, trusting the Ghost Walker as she raised her hand, two things happening at once. First, the radiance that beamed from her hand flared, a spotlight of radiance as it hit the Lilim. And the Spear in her hand erupted into brilliant flame, glowing with the same divine light as the light that radiated from her palm, extending out to it's full length. "She's here, you have to get to her!" She won't state the name, but how man dragon women do she and Robert know?

Looking up, she binks as she is talked about and then she steps out and stares, "Ok, setting aside everything that has happened so far. Your name is Bad time?" She sighs and shakes he rhead, "Why does my first major villain have to have such a goofy name?" She then flicks her hands up and fire flares up around her as she stares at the man, "Now…you are going to deal with me?" She flares fire around her even more, the room's temperature rising, "Yeah?"


Bloothirst howls in glee when he draws first blood. Her twists his body in the air to receive Ripclaw's response. Happy the big shaman is fast and strong and not a helpless prey, but sure his centuries of experience in battle will carry the day even if the Native American can match him in ferocity otherwise.

And then the woman is on his way. Bloodthirst has met both Ashura and Seraphim in battle when they still visited the Earth. The Lilim thinks he understand the holy and the unholy. He is older than Christ for a good two millennia, too. Exiled from Earth for centuries, he has only heard second hand legends about Christians and their rites.

The radiance of the Magdalena and the Spear hits him like a ton of bricks. He screams and falls down, shaking badly, the skin smoldering.

"Fuck," Blackout was just watching, and has to avert his eyes at the light. It hurts him too, but he is just 'half-breed' it is not unbearable. And he has his own tricks.

The light vanishes. All the light. Not just the radiance. Total , pitch black darkness engulfs the whole chamber. And in the darkness Blackout slides behind Magdalena, set to grab her head, pull back and slit her throat like he did to the museum guards.

Quiet and deadly. Yet still noise, smelly and pretty obvious for Ripclaw's enhanced senses.


"It is a half-assed translation of my Summerian name," admits Bad Time with a grin. And as Adara lights a fire, he vanishes. Materializing behind her. "Tut-tut. I am in the future, ever watching, all the futures. Mortals can't touch me, they are transient, ephemeral things, you see? So behave. You don't want to start a fire here, anyway. This place is so full of pretty, valuable things." He gestures around, the storage of the museum full of crates, cases and glass-protected paintings and mosaics.

Priceless. And worthless, as Lilith is going to destroy the world anyway.

Vivienne was no evil villain, more intent on talking their opponents to death than actually eliminating them, and so, as soon as she say Bloodthirst burning, she lunged forward, even as the darkness descended, her faith unwavering, trusting in that, trusting in the prescience of the Spear to guide her hand to allow her to drive the weapon into the Lilim's body, the flame, whether or not it could be seen still very much still present, as deadly as the light, as the hand she brought down, still bleeding from the cuts she had torn into it from the spikes on her belt, aimed at where the Lilim stood frozen.

Perhaps such a darkness might have incapacitated a human, even a metahuman, but Robert Berresford was not quite, not fully human, and his enhanced senses tracked the movements of the second man, and the Ghost Warrior, claws extended drove himself forward to intercept the second man, the halfbreed, to drive his claws deep into Blackout's back, and as long as they were, if he could, through to the other side.

A blink as she realizes he is behind her and she turns her head to look over her shoulder, "I see." She considers that a moment and then smiles a little, "I do care." She seems wistful before she looks forward and considers, "But I heard you…you are searching for something in here. You need something in here." She closes her eyes and then looks down at her chest before looking up slowly, "And there's someone else in here…someone…no something." She looks back at him, "Something that doesn't care about what is or isn't in this room…tell me. Bad Time." She looks forward, "Do you see the future? Do you really…see it?" She twitches and then closes her eyes even as fire begins to flare around hte room, weaving around the room as she concentrates, moving between items and objects, lighting pathaways aflame.

"The world will end flame." The voice she speaks with is dual now. Two voices, not one as her eyes open to reveal two firey sockets, glowing brightly with the look of pure magma, "Everything will burn. What are a few trinkets?" So far the fire has not touched Bad Time nor the items here but the fire creeps out further and further, racing down pathways like a river seeking the easiest path to the sea, "Should we start with this room?" She looks back suddenly at Bad Time, "Perhaps with you? Where will you go when your future is flame?"


This time it is both villains who scream at once. Bloothirst as the Spear of Destiny stabs him, and Blackout as Ripclaw talons tear his flesh. One falls. Blackout hits the floor hard, bleeding profusely.

Light returns, and Bloodthirst is moving. Despite the horrible injure caused by the Spear, the Lilim rolls away, tearing open half his chest to avoid the weapon, and jumps through the glass windows, leaving blood and bone behind. "Next time," he manages to grunt as he runs away.

Talky, but pretty tough. No human being could have survived that, and most superhumans would be dead too.

Blackout is only half that tough, which is why he might survive Ripclaw attack with some scars, but he is out of the fight.


Bad Time is laughing. "Wonderful, will you marry me?" He asks, chasing Adara around, but not -too- close. The other Lilim looks up irritated again. "Just kill her. The scrolls can likely survive magma and fire, but it will be a damn mess to find them if she torches the museum! Mother will be angry and punish us!"

That threat erases the smile from Bat Time's face. "Oh. That is… uh, a likely future. Don't burn this place, we can reward you," he offers. The other Lilim rolls his eyes. "Just kill… nevermind, I will do it myself," he steps forward, stomping towards Adara.

Ripclaw's chest heaves under that torn grey-black button up as he lurches over Blackout, ready to finish the creature off with a follow up but he doesn't, instead recoiling for the additional threats. Right now he is not about destroying these Lilum as they call themselves as they could serve a purpose, nor was he pushed in to a berserker state where he is incapable of stopping himself.

"Are you injured?" He asks quickly but not looking Magdalena over, going to the window to visibly track the monster before it's out of sight, at least it knows when to run.
"Lets find these others….

It had be a quiet night, but magic curled about. A magic that a certain elf did not like. He set about hunting, moving from shadow to shadow until he found himself in one of those building humans like to put their 'old' things in. Old.. As if a mere two centuries could be thought of as old. Normally, he'd scoff, but there was that magic to track, and if possible, destroy. The silver-haired elf pulled his hood up, shadowing his face and fully activating the enchantments that protected him. Two final 'steps' and Darkedge materializes out of a lilim's shadow. Behind the one that had turned to face Adara.

Oh. These things. Darkedge grins murderously. The elf hates these things. Silent amid the flames, the elf slips forward diamond clear blades in his hands, and stabs the lilim in teh underarm, between the ribs, teh tip of his dagger aimed for the creature's soft insides. Blow struck, the elf quick shapes the blade into spikey barbs within his victim, and then leaves the blade for retrieval later. Two sleek blood grooves help ensure that the ichor inside will soon enough find it's way outside. Darkedge shadow steps away from the lilim in the next heartbeat, appearing in a shadow of a crate across the room. The blade's twin in his other hand as the now empty hand dips into a pouch at his waist.

"I'm fine." Vivienne was not in the mood to mince words, as she saw the second opponent, Blackout, still on the ground. She moves over towards him, pressing the Spear, still flaming against his chest, its divine light pouring down on him. She moved to take a knee, drawing her free hand across the Spear's blade, wincing at the pain as her blood flowed, the sound of it sizzling as it hit the halfbreed. She reached down, pressing her bleeding palm against the wounds, allowing her blood to mingle with his, hoping, perhaps that the effect of her blood, and the pain it would cause him would keep him from being able to use his powers, "If he escapes…" She would have to hope now. "Let's go. She must be further down in the building." They had cleared the floors down from the roof, as they came down.

Listening to the conversation, she has been doing something else the whole time. Her gamble has been big but she looks at the situation and realizes now is the time. She had no idea though really. She wasn't the one with this plan. She asked the stone to simply act of its own accord in this situation. She doesn't even know tillt he moment that the stone is about to unleash a torrent of flame. She simply says, "Well, I guess if I'm to die, I might as well die fighting." And then her hands both raise at the stone's accord and a pillar of flame attempts to engulf both, "Mortals are easy to read, Huh? What about non-mortals?"


Blackout is tries to craw away, but his shredded back hurts too much, also it makes the bleeding worse, so he wisely decides to stay still and play possum. A few days in the hospital and then a jail sounds better than being dead, right?

Magdalena's attention make him feel worse than dead. He faints halfway her ritual.


The Lilim called Fang suddenly has a crystal knife between his ribs "ow," he deadpans. It hurts a bit, but only for a second. Then the tall Lilim becomes a swirling mass of poisonous green goo and the dagger clatters on the tiled floor. "And now… who the hell are you, punk?" He turns to face Darkedge, forgetting about Adara for a second.

And then Fang is boiled alive by a pillar of flame. Vaporized.

Bad Time, however, just vanishes as the flame erupts. "You shouldn't have done that, little dragon," he states, appearing at Adara's side with a knife in his hand and slashing at a side. Aiming for a shallow, but painful cut. "Mother will punish me, but I will punish you first."

Vivienne, casting a single glance back towards Robert, begins to make her way down along the stairs, hearing, but not seeing him following with her, moving at speed as they heads further down into the museum, pausing as they gets to the ground floor, checking the stairwell for anything which might be waiting at the final level of stairs to get to the basement. And then…into the only place Adara Hong might still be. With any luck, they won't arrive too late.

A frown and she was sure that'd work but apparently he is better than that. Of course, his friend isn't. She looks as fires burn and then she winces at the cut. She looks down at it and then pulls all the fire back. Every lick of fire starts to die down and vanish till there's no fire at all. She takes a breath as she focuses all that fire she just took into her left hand. Focusing on it to grow smaller and smaller even as she considers this being before her and the knife on the floor nearby, "Always seeing the future, huh?"

On a crate, the shadowy elf smirks at Fang, and then flinches back, head half turning as the flame leap higher and brighter than the shadows of his hood can protect him from. And yet, even though the light stings at his eyes an renders his sight down to just bright spots and shadows. Darkedge sees Bad Time teleport into Adara's side with a knife. Not quite fast enough in recovering from the flare of light to react to prevent the slash, the dark loving elf is now able to see when Adara calls the falme to her. And with her condensing it into a pin point in her hand, she gives him all the shadows he needs to teleport onto the creature's back.

His remainging dagger and the handful of gem shards he'd pulled from his pouch are used to stab the creature. As walys, the assassin aims for vitals on his first strike before sliding away into another shadow and drawing more gems from some other pocket to will into a new weapon, a new blade, for himself.

"Right, mortals are like wisps of nothing," states Bad Time. "You might have power, but you are nothing but a short lived, ack…" Darkedge's second dagger goes all the way through his heart and pokes through the rags covering his torso.

"T-that was interesting…" he chokes. "Crystal from Avalon, uh? B-bloody elves," he vanishes, but this time he doesn't come back. Lilim are hard to kill, but a dagger through the heart is too much for most of them.

Then the anti-fire measures of the museum activate and sprays of foam are shot from the ceiling, covering everyone on white goo.

Bit undignified, but the good guys won. And nothing important got burnt.

Vivienne proceeded into the basement, clearing the rooms with Robert's help, as the made their way deeper and deeper into the storage room, searching for the woman they know must be down here. The Lilim did like to talk, but they didn't seem to be about the business of talking to themselves. They make it, probably about halfway to where Adara and the as yet unknown, to them, elf are waiting, when the fire suppression systems go off, "At least we know she hasn't left yet." And on they go, now trying to fight their way through the now slippery gunk that's trying its hardest to cover everything.

A blink as she looks at Darkedge and she nods to him, "Thank you." She states, "He was a rather tricky one. I would rather he not di-" and then she's cut off as the foam goes everywhere. Her eyes open and close slowly as she is now covered in this foam and she sighs as she looks down, "A villain named Bad Time and now this…" She sighs, "I'm a failure as a hero."

Darkedge sneers at Bad Time, silver eyes glinting in the low light from the fire in Adara's hand.

"Run home," the elf growls at the beast just before it vanishes. with an inhale, Darkedge straightens and starts forward to collect his blades when thre is a hiss and from teh ceiling rings white foam. Darkedge ducks, bringing a hand up to cover his head, only to find himself blanketed, covered. He frowns, and flicks a hand as a cat would flick its paw. Some of the white slounces off him, unable to fuly adhere to teh leather of his armor, leather enchanted to repair and clean itself. His head lifts just enough to sort of regard the woman.

Silence, and the elf turns away to continue for his daggers, finding them by the feel of his magics in them and not by sight. Not that it looks any different to anyone else.

"Hero… An odd word," he finally says, once all his weapons have been retrieved, his back to the doorway from which the others will no doubt soon enter.

Bad Time teleported out, Fang boiled, Bloodthirst fled badly wounded and Blackout is unconscious when the police burst into the museum in force. A dozen armored cops from the SCU and dozens more of regular policemen behind.

Ripclaw can hear them from the basement. The cops will be cautious, but the heroes only have minutes before the police gets to the storage room.

"We're running short on time here." Ripclaw says feeling like he said this already as he joins the others walking up from behind Magdalena, his gaze settles on Darkedge and he grins a little. "Elf." He says in a casual meeting and manner of familiarity, a look past to check for Adara.

"The authorities are arriving."
"We should disperse and discuss elsewhere."

"They came here for a reason. Adara, did you discover what it was?" The unknown 'elf' Vivienne simply looks at, but given that neither Robert nor Adara are trying to murder him, nor does Adara look injured, so he must be alright for the moment, "We can't risk whatever they were looking for being found the next time they decide to spend a night at the museum."

"Claw," the elf replies to Ripclaw's greeting. He's pushing the rest of the foam off himself, sensing and scanning the room now that the 'stench' of those lilim is fading away. As the otheres talk about the beasts searching for something the elf's gaze settles on one of the crates. A few down from where Fang had been. Perhaps another minute or two and it would have gotten to that one. His mind reaches for the one familiar to him, offering his thoughts out for Ripclaw to gather and hear.

<" There is magic within that crate. "> comes the elf's thoughts, the words filled with the sensation of the crate he is looking at, and that to his senses it feels old in the way a library smells of knowledge, quiet and subtle and secret, waiting for discovery if one just took a moment to look. The blades area gone from his hands, as if he sheathed them, only he seems to not have any sheathes upon him.

Shaking her head a little, "Not directly but one of them said out loud, "Something abou ta scroll." She states and nods her head as she looks at hte others, "A scroll that wouldn't be burned?" Adara shrugs and sighs as she pushes foam off herself, "This is the most embarrassing…"

Vivienne has never considered herself particularly magical, when it comes to the sort of gifts that might require divining. Certainly she could pray for it, but that might take more time than they currently had. And so, she leaves it to the experts, her attention turning to the elf. I mean, elves are supposed to be magical, and then to Robert who she knows had the ability to see into places she cannot. Adara, she knows something of, at least the power she wields. And so, she does what any girl would do. She phones a friend. Managing to dig her phone out of her armor (don't ask where she keeps it), she turns her attention to that, speaking once the call picks up, "Wong…sorry to wake you, but I need an exit strategy. I have three others with me, and we might be bringing back something, well, I don't know what it is, but the Lilim were here looking for it."

"Find it then, I'll remain look out." Robert says slipping further way from them as he tears some of his shirt free. This is why his costume usually consits of just pair of pants. Pointless.

As they searh he keeps his eyes and attention fixed outwards, making sure they remain overlooked, "Tell him to hurry too." he adds to Magdalena's words. The swirl of his thoughts are touched upon only in a greeting and more to come later for Darkedge, right now hes distracted, knowing they'll have time to converse soon.

An exit strategy.

Wong knows some magic and has access to some powerful magical items. But rituals and artifacts requite time. A quick exit strategy is best handled by others. It still takes time, bit only minutes.

The SCU cops are pretty much at the room's door when the heroes are summoned away through the 'Flames of Falroth'.

The crate goes too, a second later.

(Scene picks up immediately after the exit from the museum)

+-[ Sanctum Sanctorum - Somewhere Beyond ]--------+


From the white marble floor to the artistically painted domed ceiling, everything about this foyer expresses opulence. Two wide curving staircases balustrade with filigreed wrought iron skirt the east and west walls of the oval shaped room, leading to an expansive mezzanine. Elaborate sconce trimming marks the point where the walls meet the ceiling, decoratively illuminated with hidden candles casting a bright golden glow throughout the room. Light beige marble pillars border the square archways leading north, east and west to other parts of the suite. On either side of the entrance are two large golden urns housing meticulously kept white roses.


The exit strategy Vivienne requested begins as a flicker of flame suspended in midair, which quickly blossoms out into a wide circle, tall enough for all of them to walk through comfortably. Within the ring, is what looks like the receiving foyer of a mansion. As soon as Vivienne sees it, she heads that way, stepping through as though it were nothing at all, to move between one place and the other, "Hurry. If we don't go now, we're not getting out." Not without taking a few policemen down with them. Once she's on the other side, she steps clear, leaving room for the others to come in behind her. "Bring the whole crate, we don't have time to search for what they were looking for."

The swirling golden light appears, showering sparks to and fro. It makes the elf cringe, and throws just enough light into the area that finding a shadow to slide away from proves difficult to do quickly. Add to that the sheer about of MAGIC he can feel pouring from the portal and.. well, cats aren't the only curious creatures in the universe. Reaching up to pull his hood lower over his eyes, Darkedge heads toward that bit of light that's too bright, stepping through without a backwards glance and into a foyer that's far too bright for him.

It's nauseating.

He steps to one side, hand fumbling for the ack on his belt. He pulls it up, covering his face completely and plunging his sense into darkness that eases the waves of dizzy that were forming. The headache that's stabbing at his temples will have to simply be suffered through until it subsides.

Now blind, the elf tilts his head to listen to where the others are stepping from, moving subtly to keep from being stepped upon.

Robert moves in with them through the portal in to the sanctum, he steps around them with his head downcast, eyes avoiding the light but not due to the extreme sensitivity that Darkedge suffers. He moves near a water container, pouring himself some immediately. Falling in to silence while they all recollect

The crate being set beside him while in the process near his left boot. He's not about to delve in to more mysteries than they're already suffering, at least hes not about to be the first one to. The Artifacts and their Bearers alone are cumbersome enough already.

As soon as all of them, plus their carry-on are through, the flames wink out, leaving them in the dimness of the foyer. As late in the night as it is, it's shadowed and slightly spooky, just as a mysterious mansion should be. No one else is in the foyer yet, but clearly their current situation has been noted, as there's water, food, and what looks to be a robe for Adara. "Robert, Adara…elf to whom I have not been introduced, I will heal whatever injuries you might have picked up in the battle." A glance towards Robert when she turns to find that Darkedge has completely covered his face. She does offer, at the end, "We are in the Sanctum Sanctorum. Don't disrespect it, please. It doesn't like it."

"Darkedge," the elf replies to the woman's voice, head turning slightly in her direction.

"I am uninjured," he replies. Becuase it's true. A headache and some light blindness does not an injury make.

"I will not deny your right to look and confirm for yourself," he adds, speaking more than he normally does. Ripclaw would well remember how the elf hates verbal speech, though having met him and worked with him before, the other male could tell how much Darkedge has practiced as of late, for the hoarse quality is smoothing out.

He inclines his chin slightly at the knowledge that the sanctum does not like to be disrespected. Sounds like 'home'.

"He is not an enemy." Ripclaw attests for Darkedge, "Just… he is who he is." The brawny Native American shrugs his shoulders, pouring water for the others. He hands them around the room near each then looks to the crate, pressing his toe against it and releasing a sigh.

"I am largely unharmed." He states slashes things he will heal on his own fast enough…

"Yes, you are, but I'd rather not have to have you make a trip to the pantry." Which is, oddly enough, where she keeps the chalk. And so, she does step close enough to Robert to place a hand on his bare shoulder, a soft radiance lighting her palm, before she steps away, her touch speeding his healing, before she approaches the elf, "And I am called Vivienne Benoit, though I am called by some The Magdalena, which is the office I hold." She doesn't investigate the elf at all, only repeating the light weight of her hand on his shoulder, her words coming with that hint of explanation, "I will only set my hand on your right shoulder." Which she does. And then she steps back from both of them, "May I ask why you've chosen to cover your face?"

Darkedge tracks movement, head tilting this way and that way to listen to how those around him move. It's something he seems comfortable doing.

"It was too bright," he replies, simple and direct, without detail, without emotion. He had tensed when she drew near, but otherwise refrained from moving. His head hand turned to her as she said she would touch him, and he nodded. The feel of her magic was an odd tingling thing. One he sets about memorizing as she steps back. And again, he makes no movement beyond his head tracking sounds.

Force healed! Robert manages a light smirk at Magdalena, it is who she is he has learned and does not argue these thighs, instead setting his glass down now empty to fold his arms over his chest, watching the two for a moment, considering again the past hes had with several of them, Darkedge he had not expected tonight but then, these things are all very connected. It is the /path/ set.

Upon hearing the reason, Vivienne moved away, accepting the glass of water Robert offered her as she set about moving to extinguish the lights in the foyer, needing time for her eyes to adjust, knowing Robert needed less so. Once there was no light left in the foyer save for that pale light coming in through the skylight, the room remaining nearly in full darkness, "I have extinguished all of the lights, there is only a very little from the skylight above." And then, with that done, she moves to find a seat, four of which have been brought out for their use. She did glance upward along the central stair, but there was no sign that anyone else was going to be joining them.

Hearing her move about, Darkedge waited, a line of tension on his lean frame. When she announced the lights were gone, he hesitated a moment then slowly pulled free his mask. Eyes closed, he cheked through his lids, then slowly opened his eyes.

They were silver. As metallic silver and soft as the silken silver strands of his hair. A four fingered hand sweeps up to push the hood down and off his head, revealing that hair and his long tapered ears. Darkedge inhales, an almost audible sigh of relief.

"I am in your debt," he says to Vivienne, moving now to the water to drink. The mask is reclipped to his belt with the ease of practice.

"I suppose I should have said something." The shaman remarks, he didn't consider it at first and is moving to draw a chair forward and another one, then hes grabbing the crate to set it down on that table, giving them the ability to gather around and get comfortable before he places a talon on the back of one chair, "We may as well… see what this is about."

"You are welcome, but I only did as I have been called to do." Vivienne settled, trying to make herself comfortably, or at least as comfortably as she could. She studied Darkedge, as he revealed himself, "I have never met an elf before, or if I have," because well, who knows if all elves look, well, like, "Or if I have none such as yourself." She shifts her attention to Robert, "We were in a hurry, and there was only time to move, "I would have liked Strange to be here, but…" Well, he isn't, "Do the honours?"

"I will ask what I can for you. There are something things, My Queen would wish humans not be made aware of. Of these, will refrain," says the elf to the woman, moving to settle himself in a chair and watch Ripclaw.

< Do take care. The music within is old and subtle. > the elf sends. Instead of locking his mind only for Ripclaw, he presses his thoughts out in the open, sending them freely to those in the area. If they are able, the thoughts can be taken from the air. it is as if Darkedge were holding them out on a platter, offering them as a host would offer drinks. And with the words is the sensation of where, within that box, the elf can sense the magic, for he's taking his time to focus on it, to learn it, to study it.
"I'd prefer not to." Ripclaw states as he looks at it then Magdalena, his attention shifting from her to Darkedge as his mind is touched upon again. The tip of one talon flicks out to the crate and nudges forth, pushing a scroll out and upwards, plucking it between two digits and laying it out.

"We may consider waiting an idea… in retrospect. None of us here I believe are as learned as the man himself." The magical sense of the dark elf considered also but he too has something of a sort… just not and his knowledge is highly limited compared to a true mage.

"I would also prefer to wait. If there is some sort of enchantment on the scrolls, though I would imagine it would have to be a subtle one, given that the staff at the museum and those who packed this crate were not affected, I would prefer that he were here to contain it. And as I not versed in the many languages of magic—" Vivienne paused, as she heard the words, the Spear pulsing in her hand, a subtle sort of vibration as she held it in her lap, likely the thing that made it possible to hear the words, "As Darkedge says, it might be too dangerous for anyone else." As she was not looking at the elf, she had no idea that the man had not spoken the words aloud. She simply heard them as if he had.

A silver brow cants high as the woman 'hears' him. Oh, good. Now he can stop being loud. Darkedge brings his drink to his lips for a longer sip which continuing the conversation.

< Agreed. Were this magic of the Fae Realm, I would deliver unto My Queen and leave Her to deal with it. It is not for me to handle such relics, and with the age and subtly I sense at work, it is a fair notion not to disturb such a thing. > The thoughts flow from him easily, aloud and open. Darkedge brings his glass down from his lips, swallowing the last and licking his lips before he leans forward to get himself a refill, eyes drifting over the food that was set out… or rather the trays upon which they are set.

< I admit to some small surprise in seeing you again, my friend. > the elf directs toward Ripclaw, though still Sending his thoughts openly to all gathered. < And once again under such circumstances. Am I not alone in thinking there is Something Wyrd to this? >

"Then we are in agreement. We'll leave these for the Doctor." Ripclaw sets the scroll back carefully and reclines back with a groan of that wooden chair, the crate shoved aside.

"It is more of the breaching, the things that are rising up. This is another of it's threads…. " He studies both of them, going quiet a moment, he talks quietly fortunate enough.

"I was away a while, I didn't expect to see you either, we are drawn again it would seem. "

Vivienne nodded, as both of the others made their decision, rising to her feet to move to where food has been left. Simple fair, sliced meats, cheese, fruit, freshly baked bread, no doubt from Wong's kitchen, "May I get you both anything?" But even as she set that first plate, she returned to the conversation, "Strange told me that two ancients evils had been awakened into the world again, Lilith, who's children we faced tonight, and Circe, that ancient witch of old, if the stories are true. I have seen neither of them, only the Lilim, and I know that they are striving for something. The world, I have no doubt. These sorts of evils always seek the world."

The food is recognized, but as with most things in the human world, little is thought of its preparation. So, the elf collect some fruit. Stereotypical, perhaps, but whole uncut fruit stands the least chance of being infected by iron. Still, wary of the poison, Darkedge nibbles lightly, sampling.

< Something? It depends on if this makes me ill or not. > retorts teh elf even as he is nibbling on the grape in his gloved hand. The white coating from before is gone from him completely. MAGIC!

< Still. I am gladd to see you in good health, present injuries not withstanding. > he adds to Ripclaw in almost the same thought, like an aside, before he continues on with Vivienne's topic.

< Lilith and Circe… The first is a name I think I have heard. I will need some time and quiet to sort back through the memories in my life to be certain, but on teh surface, that is what I recall. These creatures have made threat against the Fae Realm, and I am tasked to end it. I am to fight at your side, for the safety of both our realms. >
"The Greek Sorceress and… " Robert considers teachings of the past, none touch down heavily to his knowledge on Lilith, shes one beyond his knowledge stretch to a point.

"I need nothing at the moment." He says politely, watching the woman as she rises, "Two more evils, at least we have identified them that is a first step… so many of these things work through the obscure, seeing them or knowing them is the first and damnedest trick."

"I have had some aid in recuperating, the Magdalena… " A talon flickers in a motion towards Vivienne, "She has a gift. Without her some of us would be dead several times over."

Vivienne, carrying the plate back to where she had been seated, once Robert had declined the offer, settled back, folding one of her legs beneath her, using knee and the side of her leg to support the plate, though she ate with no hunger, taking her time, as though it was simply something to do to pass the time with her hands, "We are still very much in the dark about both of them, their motivations, how we can hope to even have a chance to locate one or both of them. And it worries me that all of this is also happening while the other realms appear to be opening to this on. The sheer number of demons, not just Lilim, but simple, if such a word existed, are on the rise. It cannot simply be their doing. For we we receiving dark tidings long before they revealed themselves."

< Indeed. My Queen has been concerned that troubles in the Human Realm would soon threaten the Fae. It is why I was left. > Darkedge replies, finishing that grape and reaching for another. The cheese, has to be cut. Possibly with a steel knife: suspect. The bread? He's had hit or misses on that before. Best to steer clear unless it is provided by Lady Potts. She knows to procure things from teh Silver Oak, and they cater to teh fae. No iron ever.

< When She next touches my mind, I shall inquiry for all that She would gift me in the way of knowledge of both of these names. What information She will give me that I can share with you both, I shall. > Darkedge promises as he eats and drinks, his nibbles small and slow so that the very amount he takes in seem far too little to maintain someone of his size and apparent activity.

"I will have to trust her concern. The realms with which I am familiar…" Vivienne lifted her shoulders in a light shrug, "Then have never wished this one well. And they seek always to find ways into our world. But in all of my years as the Magdalena, I have never seen the demonic so active. And not solely these Lilim, indeed these Lilim, as they identify themselves, I have never seen, but the lesser evils? Those I have seen, and fought a greater one less than a week ago with the servant of the Order of St. Dumas. It was very nearly my match. And if these beings are stronger still? I fear we will have a long road ahead of us, with far too many enemies encountered along the way."

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