Participants:
| Scene Title | The Hunter Gets Captured By The Game |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Moral of the story? Pay attention to your front door. Adam returns home to find a crispy corpse in his living room, though Elle's fun is shorter than it could have been. |
| Date | November 20, 2008 |
Somewhere in Brooklyn
It's not quite sunrise, but outside in Brooklyn there is already the beginning of the day for those that had been asleep; the sky is still dark enough to be part of the night, but the streetlights and intermittent people mark it as far too early for some.
Huruma is just getting back to where she is staying, making her way into one of the doors along the fire escape rather than the front door. She looks somewhat tired, perhaps hurried, and the wool coat around her doesn't do much to hide the sour look on her face made from the November chill.
It's rather too bad Huruma hadn't entered by the front door, because she might have noticed something odd. A little off, as it were. If the door was locked when she left, it is certainly not locked now, its latch broken and the circle around it singed black.
If the African woman's senses are on, she might notice a flutter of emotional activity. Very light. Besides this, however, everything is as it was left; there is no movement to catch Huruma's eye, no objects shifted out of place.
When she is tired or in such a sour mood, Huruma does keep her field of senses up; she pauses when she shuts the door, but only to give the room(in this case, the small kitchen) a short, cursory look-over. Her steps further inside are careful, eyes quivering over the walls as she approaches the sink nearby. That flutter was enough to make her curious, but not quite enough to be setting her off without further mental investigation. For that reason, her senses stretch further towards that flutter she had felt.
…And there is a /snicker/. Not from what Huruma had swept her eyes over, directly, but from somewhere quite close— and with this, a laser of very thin blue that slices diagonally into the floor by Huruma's feet. Bzzt. Zzt. Heehee. "Oh, Hoomsy. Home alone?" comes a teasing voice.
Should Huruma look in its direction, it should become very apparent that Elle has been standing close to a concealed corner all along; and now she steps into full view. One glowing palm is cupped by her cheek, the elbow resting upright in the opposite hand.
The snicker is enough to put Huruma's hand to her belt for her pistol, and by the time it is in the air aimed at the direction of that source, Elle's short arc is coming close to her feet. The woman shifts her feet backwards in natural avoidance, but now her whole attention is on the other woman. Both eyes stay narrowed on the small blonde.
A seething hiss of air passes through her nose. "…Figures." Huruma's voice growls, and the African wastes not a millisecond more before pelting Elle's mind with that overwhelming Fear, and firing off two rounds from her pistol. In the early morning hours, it rings throughout the buildings.
It's a combination of luck and movement on Elle's part that saves her from finding two bullets lodged inside her flesh. A hulk of upholstered furniture to her side gets them instead, little black holes flaring into thickness. Fear sinks into her like a lance, but she'd been expecting /something/, and before it can take full effect there is a
KRAK.
A 'full blast', as Bob had once called it. An explosion of a sheet. There remains a chance that Huruma might still be able murmur incoherently if she clings to consciousness after the hit. Little mini-zappages flit and crackle off to either side, probably putting piercings all over the decor, but Elle does not notice these, blue eyes trained completely on Huruma's face.
The gun fires off again, but not at Elle- it's a haphazard attempt to fire a gaping hole into the sink.
Huruma's howl echoes pain, but largely it is angry, and full of wrath, even as the tall woman's muscles wreak havoc with each other inside of the blue shock. There are more to muscles than those that move you- and the most important is the one keeping anyone alive. Havoc is a dull word for the reaction in Huruma's chest- explosion may in fact be a better choice of term. As it reaches her heart, there is only a few seconds between contact and the abrupt and jarring cut of her powers in Elle's mind.
Anyone smell dinner?
Already, Huruma reeks of burnt flesh, even before she buckles to her knees and subsequently backwards onto the floor.
Probably ironically, this time Huruma's unaimed aim is true. It is the sink's turn to /explode/(!), a chunk of its wall simply falling right out of it, and it isn't long before there is water pooling around Elle's feet. Like a tiny, blonde-haired version of the Wicked Witch of the West, she takes an anxious step back in a futile attempt to keep it from wetting her lower half.
The agent isn't done here yet, though, seething though she now is. From a pocket of her jeans, she retrieves a black-and-white stick poking halfways out already. Permanent marker, yo.
It's an early hour indeed when a certain immortal trots unevenly up the front steps of the house in which the Legion is staying, put off-kilter by his burrowing about his pockets in search of his keys. It's the jingling of said keys that might first offer an alert to his presence - but the jingling stops when Adam catches sight of the lock's condition. He frowns, and simply pushes the door open.
He's blissfully unaware of whatever might be going on inside, simply assuming that all is well, assuming the worst could be a mere local robbery; he's coming down from quite a night of carousing, and he quite simply doesn't have the energy to deal with it just yet. He has maybe had a few too many appletinis. The front door swings open and then shuts with a rather loud rap, locked again. And then Adam heads for the kitchen, intending to fetch a snack before hitting his bed.
Drip drip dripdripdrip. Uhhh. There might be a slight problem, because 1) that is water slooshing its sneaky way out from beneath the kitchen door, which is 2) shut. Tightly. Lord /knows/ what Adam will find upon opening the door. Oh, terror.
Adam's shoes suddenly sploosh. That is not normal. He glances down to find his feet surrounded by a puddle that is coming from the kitchen, a realization that brings a frown to his face. Rather than continue in he steps away, heading to a relatively nearby closet. By the time his footsteps take him back to the kitchen door, a sword is clutched tightly in one hand, its naked blade resting across the front of his shoulder. Then: BAM. The door, it is open.
The first thing that greets Adam's eyes is a dark, gangly body in a half-slump in the middle of the room. The position is as though somebody tried to drag it upright, then gave up and simply let it drop from heaviness. That thing, of course, is Huruma - but with the streaks of dark red and black, splotchy injuries that accompany a certain type of electrocution.
There is also plaster /everywhere/, chunks of it lying around in puddles, which are steadily enlarging from the water feeding into them from the sink's hole.
Nothing else but a fire escape that sits ajar (there is a wind blowing in), as well as enormous black letters on the nice wallpaper:
LATE PAYMENT FOR THE MOCHA. *~I LOVE U~*.
Elle went out impulsively and did this without the knowledge, advice, or consent of anybody from the Company. It is well possible that she will be reprimanded for it after the consequences are discovered. (After all, Adam is still loose…and thus, Huruma can hardly be expected to stay dead.) -Elle
 November 19th: The Count Of Three |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 November 20th: ELVIS LIVES! |