Log: Complete

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

When; The evening of January 8th
Rating; PG? Unless things happen, then it'll move up from there. R for gore, whoops.
Characters; Henry Townshend, Vincent, Fox Mulder, Scarab, Pyramid Head, Walter, and Rayne.
Summary; Vincent takes Henry out of the house. Henry is confused by the whole 'out of the house' concept, but appreciates the opportunity to take care of a thorn in his side. But they aren't the only ones at the club...
Log;

Henry wasn't sure why Vincent called him out to go to a club- they had plenty of room in their house, and it was nice and quiet. He had much to learn from Vincent, how things worked and how they should work. He was responsible for knowing it, too. This...this was not the night for Vincent to delve into it.

However, Henry was going to explode if he didn't move around soon. He felt twitchy and irritated, and he wanted to learn from the Executioner and the Dragon. He almost didn't care about learning, wanting to just destroy as much as he could (and all the better if that vampire Walter and Rayne were in the path). He held onto the control he had left with as much willpower as he could manage.

So maybe going out would get some of that energy out.

He sighed as he knocked on the door to Vincent's room. He was carrying his sword- he wouldn't leave without that- and had somehow procured a small handgun and holster as well. He waited as patiently as he could, staring at the door with dead eyes.

Comments

[snarky-padre-v.livejournal.com]

Vincent was a little startled by the knock; he was still dressing up in what to Vincent passed for 'club clothes'; although fashion conscious, Vincent didn't really have a taste for the flamboyant. The flashiest thing he ever tended to wear was the jewelled collar Xuchilbara had given him, or the red sash that went with his priest's robes.

Vincent's 'club clothes' consisted of a black leisure suit with a tan vest, and a white silk button down shirt.

He hadn't put on his pants yet, as he had yet to press the seams.

Ergo he was surprised not only to be caught out like this by Henry, but by Henry's armed-to-the-teeth club "look".

"Henry," Vincent deadpanned, "sorry I'm not quite ready. Is the sword quite necessary? They might insist on taking it at the door.
I'm sure a few misericords would be easier to smuggle inside- do you want to borrow my cummerbund?"

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

The expression on Henry's face was somewhere in between a glare and a pout- he wouldn't get rid of the sword easily. It was necessary.

He was about to say as much when Vincent offered to help somehow. But the word wasn't completely familiar- "...Misericords?" He shook his head and got back to the point he was making in his head. "It's dangerous for us, Vincent....you know that. Especially on our own. ....you really think they'd take the sword? I can't let them have it."

Henry was dressed the way he almost always was- a grey dress shirt, black pants and shoes. That was about as close to 'clubbing clothes' as he got.

[snarky-padre-v.livejournal.com]

"Well...sure. You know about misericords, don't you? Hold on..." Vincent wandered off into the expanse of his room, which he had continued to furnish as time had gone on.

It was like something out of a catalogue, his tastes in furniture were so basic and bland. The only things that made it clear this room was lived in were the books scattered willy nilly on almost every available surface, and the few bits of weird and disturbing art.

Vincent came back, and spread out a cloth on the ironing board. As an afterthought, he noticed his pants on the board, and began to shove his foot through one of the legs so as he could get the damn things on already.

On the cloth were 5 or 6 longish thin knives, triangular shaped blades. They were of a black metal, like iron, but if Henry chose to heft one, he'd find them fairly light and easy to handle. The pommels were wrapped, a thin silver wire forming an interesting pattern.

Vincent was in another room, spritzing himself with cologne. His voice was still audible though, as he spoke louder so as to be heard.
"The name means 'mercygiver', or so I heard," he called out, "in times of war, these were used on those of your own side who were too injured to carry back. Slips inbetween the ribs easily, nice clean stab to the heart. I got this set in an antique shop near Brahams. Used to use them on high ritual days."

Vincent wandered back into sight.
He stood in the doorway, hand on one hip, looking Henry over.
"Well, I suppose you are already accounted for, so you've no need to attract anyone," he observed, taking in Henry's ordinary clothes, "and considering how at the moment our kind are about as popular as limburgher cheese enemas, maybe it's just as well you don't look too flashy."

It was time to head out to Automatica.
Vincent had taken to going here when he was feeling bold enough to leave the house. So far he hadn't had too much trouble, either, as the club policy was pretty much about keeping the violence to a minimum.

Vincent spotted an empty table in one dark corner and, along the way towards it, a bowl of peanuts and pretzels no one seemed to be eating. He claimed both, and watched the talent on the dancefloor for a few before speaking to Henry again. "You're feeling it, aren't you? I didn't know him, but I read enough about his exploits in the papers.
I assume it no longer frightens you, but how well are you doing keeping it in check?"

[just_rayne]

Rayne had not been lying when she said spying was one of talents. She had been watching the comings and goings of the Priest and dear Henry will much interest. The executioner wasn't the only one who could use the shadows to conceal. Dressed in al all black version of her usual uniform she seamlessly blended into her dark surroundings. She and Walter both wanted to do such heinous things to Henry and if they happened to get the priest as well all the better.

It had been too perfect when the unwitting pair had went down into the Underground toward Automatica...too perfect indeed. She spared a glance toward her partner in this endeavor. What do you think? Should we go blend in among the crowd? she mentally projected her thoughts toward Walter. Such a useful talent in their current situation.

[m1jac0ge0.livejournal.com]

Agent Mulder was jumpy, and did startle when he felt the tap on his arm, but when he saw it was Vincent he relaxed the grip on his holster.
He certainly didn't like or trust the cult's sneaky priest, and liked even less that the man had come to know him in a vulnerable state and so assumed they were close enough that he had the right to just come up and tap him like this, but obviously anything flustering the guy might be of interest.
Mulder had harbored a secret hope of breaking the cult up by weakening the faith of the members, and the priest seemed at points ready to make a clean break from them.
If Xulchibara or the PyramidHead had done something that was bad enough to send the priest seeking him out here, then maybe it was something worth knowing...Mulder followed blithely into the trap. Vincent alone was hardly a threat, as he hadn't the physical prowess to harm Mulder. This being so, it didn't occur to the agent that Vincent might have had a trick up his sleeve.

[just_rayne]

Mulder has had run-ins with the cult. He knows things could prove useful to Sir Hellsing. But he has a tendency to get himself into trouble and he could pose a problem to our plans. she explained to Walter.

Rayne frowned at the latest developments but continued to watch Vincent carefully as Walter slinked toward Henry. She noticed that Vincent seemed to be leading Mulder toward Henry's location. She moved within the shadows blending keeping within striking distance.

It looks like Vincent and Henry are planning a party and Mulder is their guest.

[dark-butler.livejournal.com]

Then Mr. Mulder may well owe us a very big favor, Walter noted, following Vincent and Mulder's progress with a small portion of his attention, the majority reserved for the man who had called his pain "beautiful."

There was a time when obtaining information for Arthur would have been his primary consideration. Now it was just a happy coincidence in his main goal of inflicting pain.

But we may wish to give him a reason to thank us first. It's hardly a rescue if there's nothing to be rescued from.

[just_rayne]

Rayne didn't like the sound of what Walter was suggesting but noted that Agent Mulder did have a knack for getting himself into trouble. Before she could further 'voice' her opinions she felt a twinge in the back of her mind. Alerting her to a possible danger to them.

Her glowing eyes moved out along the crowd looking at the shadows searching for whatever or whoever had set off her senses.

Walter...there is another presence here. I can feel it. We may have to work quickly on this one.

The last thing they needed was someone or something trying to stop them from their task at hand.

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

Scarab....The Dragon was not unaware of the positions of most of these particular players, but within a crowded club, it was difficult to walk up to someone not necesarily doing anything and start a fight.
Too many other people...too much potential panic.

She had been ordered to stay with Henry and Vincent when they lefet the manor, but hadn't made her presence known, since she was a little less than social just now.

Well...the truth was she was still upset over the entire notion that her mentor had changed her into somththing else. Not everyday one finds out they are capable of altering thier flesh and mind to become something both less and more human.

Her red-lenses eyes narrowed as she noticed Walter ( yes, that was the name others on the network used for the Fool ) work his way toward Henry.
WIthout comment, or drawing attention to her movements, she too started to work her way along the perimeter, and flicked the little strap that held the hilt of her sword ( which was hidden under the clothes on her back, and a long spill of her black hair) in it's sheath while traveling.

Best to have the weapon easily retrieved.

Scarab kept as far from the midst of the dancers as she could, and hoped Mulder wouldn't recognize her before she could get closer to Henry and let him know what was going on.
She contemplated speaking mentally, but she didn't want him kick-starting this little fight.

[m1jac0ge0.livejournal.com]

Although certain he could handle himself-certainly against Vincent, anyway- Mulder had a tendency to be too trusting. Naive, Scully had chided him from time to time, but with Scully not there to feed him a voice of reason when he went off blindly and bull-headedly on a case, he had been getting into all kinds of trouble, and the fact was this cult had gotten the better of him already.

Perhaps that was why he was so determined to break them. Mulder did not like losing anymore than he liked evil, secretive people.

Maybe this time the priest had had enough and wanted to call it quits, he figured. There wasn't much to like about the guy, and Mulder certainly had no access to anything even remotely like a witness protection program anymore, but if the guy was willing to spill the beans and disclose any information he might have on how to make PyramidHead fall, or to stop Alessa's pregnancy or even kill Xuchilbara, Mulder was all ears.

Vincent was ahead of him and pushing into the men's bathroom.
Mulder saw neither Henry nor Scarab as he followed.

The door pushed open at his touch, and altho the music still echoed off the porcelain, it was decidedly quieter in here.

He stared at the obviously nervous priest.
"Now what did you want to tell me, Vincent?"

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

Henry was behind Mulder in an instant. One arm reached around Mulder's neck, hand over the shoulder in an effort to keep the man from going anywhere. The other hand held one of the small knives, which cut into the skin just below the kidney. It was pushed in just enough to threaten.

"He's not happy with our family anymore," Henry said in a low, mocking tone, speaking directly into Mulder's ear. "We're mean to him. He's had a crisis of faith. He wants to help you destroy us."

He could feel the Dragon in the area, and it set him at ease. She could see that he's doing this right, that he's protecting them. And he'd been waiting for this ever since the ritual. He grinned. The knife pushed in just a fraction of an inch more. "Sorry, Mr. Mulder. Not tonight."

[snarky-padre-v.livejournal.com]

"Oh shit!" Before Vincent could say something snide about this being the men's bathroom, thanks, Scarab, he saw that they had enemies- enemies he'd never met in person but had certainly seen on the network.

Vincent swallowed hard. All he had was his pistol, and he still had no idea how to fire it; he drew it, but his hand was shaking so badly any shot he might have fired would go awry anyway...

[just_rayne]

Well not one to rest on her laurels Rayne followed Walter into the men's restroom after his dramatic entrance. He did have a flare after all.

"Now I know you didn't start the party without us," she said teasingly, entering behind him.

Locking her arm blades into place, she looked over at Vincent and smiled deviously, her fangs gleaming. "What's a matter? Are you scared?"

[dark-butler.livejournal.com]

"He should be," Walter said, taking in the woman and her little sword before dismissing her with a flick of his eyes and looking past her for Henry. "They all should be."

The woman was between him and his target, the man who thought that suffering was "beautiful." Walter would show him beauty.

"Get out of my way and I won't do to you what I did to the last woman who thought to wave a sword at me."

[snarky-padre-v.livejournal.com]

..which would have worked, if Vincent didn't feel some need to defend Henry as well.
This whole blunder had been his idea. The going to the club. The ambush on Mulder.
He had said on the network he would lay down his life for Henry if he had to to stop Rayne and after the promise, he'd need to make good with the proof.

Too bad he had no idea how to fight, and his target was a seasoned killer.

Vincent stepped forward and aimed his gun at Rayne and pulled the trigger.

[just_rayne]

Rayne's eyes turned instantly red the moment the bullet from Vincent's gun hit her in the hip. "You little worm! You'll pay for that!" Rayne hissed.

Scarab was not the only one who could move lightening quick. Weaving between Walter and Scarab with swift speed. Rayne had Vincent within her grasp, easily lifting him by his throat.

"I told you were the appetitzer didn't I?"

[dark-butler.livejournal.com]

Another girl with her little sword thinking sword against wire was a good idea. Walter's lips drew back in a sneer as he threw up a web of wire to catch the sword (never destroy a good weapon if it's unnecessary and/or not in Alucard's hand) and reduce its wielder to a mass of meat.

His eyes widened in surprise when the usual soft tug of wire through flesh was arrested by bone.

Dammit, he was getting really sick of this sort of thing.

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

Now disarmed, and in utter agony as the garrotts bit into her flesh, Scarab grit her teeth and looked wildly toward Vincent.

That idiot!

Panting slightly, she felt the red haze start to cloud her vision.
Survival instinct overriding the pain as the whispering place in the back of her mind grew to swallow her conscious thoughts.

The change was just as violent, and horrifically painful as it had been the first time, and that sort of 'psychic scream' travelled back through the connection her mark made from her to her mentor, and on to it's source.

Waht came out from her physically, however, was not just a scream, but a sound of raw horrified agony.
An inhuman sound that ripped her throat again.

She spasmed, her spine bowing, and fighting against the tug of the wires.
Her ribs pushed out obscenly against her flesh, as though they were being spread from the inside.

Her screaming became wetter, deeper, like a gurgling growl as her ribs tore through her skin like a horrific pair of jaws, complete with serrated teeth.
That snapped and bit at the wires around her chest.
Her arms just as suddenly were pulled straight, and strained against a hard mass that moved below her skin, before that mass revealed itself to be long silver blades, that pushed just as forcefully from her forearms in a spray of blood.

Blood-blackened eyes looked at Walter, and then quickly up, as she used one blade to cut the taught wires and smash the flourescent light overhead in a shower of sparks.

An instant strobe effect along with the sparking wires settled over the room.
The Dragon was calling frantically to her mentor, and hoped that Henry would capitalize on the sudden flashes of darkness to either fight or get the hell away.

[snarky-padre-v.livejournal.com]

Vincent struggled, but he had no idea how to get out of this mess.
he could barely make out the others in the periferal vision he had available to him, and they all seemed busy.

He could barely choke out the whimper caught in his throat. His body felt heavier as it dangled, and he realized This is it.
Not again.

He didn't bother to try to struggle. He just closed his eyes and waited for the pain to come.

[dark-butler.livejournal.com]

This was unexpected but not shocking. Walter had seen Alucard's transformations and they were sometimes more extreme than what this woman had just undergone.

Unexpected, but, "Fun!"

He slid back out of reach of the new blades and with malicious intent to cause the most pain possible, he jerked the wire through her flesh, going for as much scrape on bone as possible. Let her hurt for protecting Henry.

Let her pain be beautiful. And then he'd move on to the next. Let there be more cult members. Let them stretch to the horizon.

[m1jac0ge0.livejournal.com]

Mulder had still been struggling in Henry's grip, debating whether or not to concuss him with his gun, when Scarab, Walter and Rayne added themselves to the mix in quick succession.

Mulder watched all this from his precarious situation; perhaps Henry was just as surprised, for he wasn't hurting Mulder any worse than the too-strong grab for now.

The fight between Walter and Scarab was heated, but between Rayne and Vincent it was no contest.

Mulder actually winced when the woman picked Vincent up bodily, and actually cried out "No!" when she impaled and drained the man, flung him aside.

He needed to get away from Henry. People could, were, dying here.

But by the time he drew back to slam Henry with the gun, Henry had shadow-leaped, taking Vincent's dead or dying body out of harm's way.

Mulder hadn't noticed Henry's return. He had wasted no time coming over hoping to help Scarab or...whatever it was Scarab was turning into.

"You can't do this!" he called out to Walter and Rayne, unaware in this state they were unlikely to listen to reason, and certainly not to a human with nothing more than a Glock to back up his words, "if nothing else we need information from them. These are people, not the Pyramid thing. You can't just kill people for no reason!"

Mulder tried to stand up to his full height, but the pain made him slouch; he'd been stabbed in the kidney, and there was no guarantee he was going to live through this fight either. But someone had to try to do this takedown legally...the cult members were more valuable alive than dead.

Could these two not see that?

He lifted his gun, teeth gritted against the pain, and made his stand...

[just_rayne]

Rayne watched as Henry melted into the shadows and spirited his dead friend away. She glared hard taking stock of the way the shadows danced, making a mental index for when she began to make her own jumps. The influx of fresh blood had heightened her senses and increased her ability to "slow time" down so to speak. A vicious grin crossed her face as Henry appeared before her ready to challenge her.

"Aww, does Henry want to play?" she laughed manically. Her bloodlust clouding her mind and making her think of only taking Henry and draining him dry...but no they wanted to play with him first. Yes, he would suffer, he would feel pain, he would bleed for them, he would be beautiful.

Agent Mulder's outburst caught her attention and she glared at his insolence. How dare he think he could interfere in their business! He always did get himself into trouble. Showing her lightening quickness once again Rayne weaved passed Henry not wanting to give away her trump card just yet. Within moments she had grabbed the gun out of Mulder's hands and shoved him down hard to the ground. "Stay out of this human. We have our reasons and we don't have to explain them to you!" she growled, kicking the man unconscious.

Truly his silence was a gift and he should be damn lucky she didn't kill him too. She turned her attention back to Henry and smiled deadly. "You're turn. Bring it on."

[redhorror.livejournal.com]

It was then, without any warning, that the dull sounds from the club became cut off by a muffling quality to the air.

The Dragon had cried out for her teacher, and called by blood, and darkness, the Executioner came.

A primal fury had been awakened by injury to those that were under His protection.
The woman in red....and The Fool
How foolish, indeed, to ignore the Red Gaurd's warning.

In the little club bathroom all hell was breaking loose. This was almost literally proven, as the tile floor and a sizable part of the far wall exploded in a mess of dust, flying porcelain, and pieces of concrete sailing through the air.
Before the dust could clear, the tip of the red pyramid began to emerge through the hole as the creature frantically clawed it's way to the surface.

The monster jerked, and twitched, but seemed otherwise unphased as it raised itself to it's feet. Turning back to the hole, it angrily yanked it's nine-foot steel blade from the darkness below, and began to lurch forward with a speed not usually associated with the crimson demon.
Both great, grisly white hands curled around the hilt of it's weapon, yet it surged forward, dragging the blade along. The very ground seemed to sense it's anger, and through every small crack in the concrete, blood began to spurt, bubbling and oozing from the walls, the drains, and even the cracked grout in the floor.

The Executioner stood beside Brother Serpent for only a moment, and the horrific consciousness beneath the blood-and-rust helm showed him an impression of anger, bloodlust, and the need for the serpent to get away. Henry was too important to Father....and Mother worried for them.



A whip of stygian thought-made-solid arced out for The Fool again, and the Executioner charged, great corded muscles in his arms swinging the blade for the wires that held The Dragon captive.

The Dragon was HIS student. His to hurt, his to maim, and NO ONE elses!

Show you, see you, she will show you, she will see you, mine mine mine, show you show you mine, MINEMINEMINE!

[dark-butler.livejournal.com]

The odor of blood all around was not frightening. It was the scent of what he had to take to exist.

Show you, see you, she will show you, she will see you, mine mine mine, show you show you mine, MINEMINEMINE!

Oh yes. The lash of thought hurt. It hit where Walter was weak. It brought back memories of being helpless in Pyramid Head's hands.

It enraged him.

Yours? Walter's lips peeled back from from his teeth and his face twisted into something that bore little resemblance to the visage he usually wore. "Yours?"

His hands came up, fingers twisting, wrists pulling, strands drawn between his teeth before he pivoted to give the wires embedded in Scarab's body a vicious jerk and twist.

Flesh flew, muscle tore, blood filled the air with a fine red mist that matched the killing haze that had fallen over Walter's mind, and Scarab's body was spun toward the one who claimed her.

"Good!"

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

The Dragon wasn't able to scream.

Time seemed to slow as she could see the red strings of her own muscle and tendon. See them being pulled like so much meat from the shredding garrotts as they tore through her flesh.

Her metal-plated bones kept the wires from dismembering her entirely, but her arm hung at odd angles from the threads of sinew that held it in it's socket.
Several severed veins spilled more of her blood to add to the mess already in the floor, as she fell like a broken ragdoll.

Criss-crossed in a macabre lacework of red, the Dragon fell before the Executioner, and managed a slow blink...just one.

Then the blood-blackened eyes did not so much glaze, as still completly....save the single bloody tear that leaked from one of the corners of her eye.