Greater Easthaven Last Call Song

[James Carter]

Carter's ears were burning.

Most of the time that was used as an expression that implied someone was talking about you behind your back. Not this time. Carter's ears were literally heating up and he crinkled his brow in discomfort. Eventually it passed discomfort into pain and he shot up in his car seat in surprise- at which point the pain promptly settled.

“Christ on a stick Darla- what!?” he called in annoyance.

Carter lived out of his car. This was not a matter of circumstance but of choice. He was almost always mobile, able to pick up and go at the drop of a hat. When he did need accommodations there were hotels- or more often than not motels. Pay cash. Leave fake names and stolen card numbers. Yep, James Carter lived a glamorous life.

His radio kicked on to a blare of static that pulled him from his thoughts, only to find him driving on the road with the caddy's lights still off- his seat still leaned back from when he'd been asleep.

“The hell?” Carter muttered as he pulled over and started to focus.

There was something, a slow subtle tug at his senses telling him to go... somewhere. Darla noticed it first but even then he didn't doubt it was some kind of magic fuckery.

Reaching into the glove box, the southerner pulled a handgun out and did a quick check to make sure it was loaded and in good condition. He glanced up and saw his wife's dubious expression in the rear view.

“Ah hell Hon, we got an invite. Be rude not to show up.” he said with a mischevious grin.

He adjusted his seat and flicked on the Cadillac's lights. Then he started driving toward the siren call.

[Theo Crowhurst]

Outfit
Cinder (Resisting the song) Exceptional success

The night was dark and cool, the industrial harbour side bathed in darkness. Pools of dirty orange light were scattered down roads, a half-hearted effort to make the place less desirable to undesirables. Off the sea, the scent of brine and engine exhaust blew towards land, the air that foul mix of industry and salt just along this stretch of the inlet. As the black waves splashed against the dockside, the orange light caught the rainbow patterns of leftover oil leavings from whatever ship had been moored there.

Further along, a fenced in section served as the container hub, but here it was mostly small boats and sea-oriented businesses that didn't deal in national or international trade. Fishermen's bars and tackle shops, a boat mechanic. Everything a stretch of dock might need, for private citizens or businesses. It wasn't the most attractive spot, that was along the harbour side in Old Town or Newton, but the rent was cheap and the space was plenty.

Theo was not a boat enthusiast. Far from it. There'd been a half-hearted attempt at it, when he'd first moved, but then after the trouble with the siren matriarch he'd left the sea behind. He had other sports to keep him occupied, he didn't need to fish.

The trouble with sirens persisted, though, which was only natural for a place so dominated by populated coastline. Theo even took advantage of it, letting the bodies of creatures he'd killed slip into the ocean to be preyed on by scavengers who liked that sort of thing. An odd symbiotic relationship, although that didn't stop them from trying to kill him.

This time, Theo wasn't the target. Punters from the local bars had been slowly turning up missing, the stories mostly explaining it by way of drunk men wandering too close to the dockside and taking a dive in. Drowning because no one was around to see their drunken fumble. Theo was sure some cases were exactly that, but the spike in missing men had caught the attention of the agents assigned to monitoring missing persons cases and suspicious disappearances or deaths.

And here he was, in the middle of the bloody night. He'd changed out of the suit for this one, the neighbourhood only likely to give him trouble for walking around in suits worth as much as his were. He'd changed into something more business casual, warm enough in the cool evening, and not likely to get him noticed any more than anyone else. What set him apart was the holsters around his shoulder, the Sig's snug in their cradles, but he had his license if the police were around. His sword was a familiar weight at his hip, but the enchantment obscured it to onlookers.

So far, the dockside had been quiet, beyond the burst of laughter and chatter each time a nearby bar door opened. Like static in a radio suddenly bursting before fading out as quick as it'd come. The businesses around him had dark windows, only the neon signs of a few of them providing light beyond the dirty orange of the streetlights.

Theo was about to call the night a wash when a haunting song reached his ears. He felt that otherworldly tug, the temptation, tickling at his consciousness, but then he harshly pushed it down. He was too irritated to even need to be here to fall for the luring song of a siren eager to feed.

Common sense dictated that he put distance between himself and the song, but Theo was here for a reason. Instead, he began jogging down the dockside, following the sound to its origin point. He had to pause from time to time, disoriented in the echoing streets, the sound coming off oddly with the vast harbour inlet next to him, but he was closing in.

[James Carter]

Carter Cinder 6d6 to resist sirens: 3 passes (complete success]

It was easy figuring out where to go. Alarmingly easy. Because his mind wanted to go there, and the closer he got the harder that tug. If Darla hadn't given him some early warning he'd have probably woken up already driving and not questioning it. Turning the wheel and flicking his blinker in the same motion, Carter tried ti remember the map of Easthaven he'd looked out when he got into town.

This direction was.... the docks? Docks and singing narrowed things down, he wasn't a kid so he doubted this was a sea ghost drowning people- la larosa? Larona? His Spanish was shit and a priest was a better opponent for one of those.

This had been calling g him though, so he was guessing a siren. Those were... Greek? Carter wracked his half-awake mind over what he remembered from Greek mythos only to note he was about to jump the curb.

It was pulling him more to the right, a sign up ahead assuring him it was indeed the docks. “Need to drown it out- heh, get it Darl'n? Drown it.” Carter joked as he grabbed a slightly scratched CD from a collection of them hanging in a pouch off his sun visor.

He slapped the disc in and turned the volume up. That song he could just almost hear was melodious like water pushing in and sifting out to sea.

Carter picked something at odds with that gentle yet persistent call. Pump it by the Black Eyed Peas. On full volume so he couldn't hear anything else.

Darla scowled. She didn't much like this song..

“Turn up ya radio- blast ya stereo, riiiiiight.” Carter sang while he worked himself up from half-awake to in the right mindset for a fight.

[Theo Crowhurst]

As Theo jogged down the darkened docks, passing through the intermittent pools of orange streetlights that were the sole source of any strong light beyond the distant twinkling of Old Town and Newton in the distance, he listened for the song. He also listened for the sounds of life or people, if any drunken yelling was running in pursuit of the song. Theo could hear distant traffic, underlying the song of the siren trying to draw him in. The sign of a busy city living off industry was busy roads even in the late evening, truckers on their last leg, the night shift on their way out, or aimless wanderers who didn't have anything better to do.

But under all of that, slowly growing louder, there was the revving of an old engine, and... loud music? The sort of obnoxiously loud music from someone who did not care a whit for the people around. It wasn't the occasional burst of a bar door opening, but the persistent bass of an older radio straining to drown out the things around it. Drowning out the song, or a thoughtless nighttime wanderer?

Theo couldn't tell which it was, and his attention went back to the sirens song. Even at forty, he was fit enough to keep jogging, although the was mindful not to charge ahead and wear himself out before he even got to the fight. The sword bounced against his hips, although it was tied in such a way it didn't catch on his legs as he ran. There was the squeal of tires a few streets into the tired old business district butting up against the shipping compound, the beat of the abominable club music coming closer as well.

Ahead, Theo could see a sloped jetty descending into the water, the perfect entry point for enchanted and charmed drunks to walk to their death. In the dark, he thought he could see the water shifting, the splash of... something large in the water. But it could also just be the structure causing the waves to slap against the stone sides of the seawall around the jetty.

[James Carter]

Glamor Cantrip used.

Carter kept driving aiming closer to the open invitation someone was magic throwing. All the while he worked to focus on both the call and the music he was playing. It wasn't like he was great at multitasking, he had to turn DOWN the music in the car when trying to figure out directions- but a lifetime of practice made his mind a bit more flexible when considering things on the spooky side of the street. He could keep following the call even as he worked to block it out.

He kept singing though much to his wife's annoyance. “Yo, check this out right here
Dude wanna hate on u- Oh fuck!”

Even as he drove he turned a corner and his lights revealed a man standing on the road, well honestly maybe it was Carter less in the road. Regardless, James slammed the brakes and turned so the car slid to a nice hard stop, it's side now facing whoever was... heading toward that nice bit of water over there. Well fuck, probably someone caught in the song.

Carter shook his right hand then ran it against the fabric of his tank top. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a grey undershirt, that was it save for a bit of jewlery. Yet in that casual motion he cast a glamorous.

Minor magic, but one he had so much practice with it came as second nature. His unkempt appearance gave way to a fine yet cheap business suit, slanted tie, and scuffed dress shoes. He'd lifted the look from the hundreds of police detectives he'd met over the years.

Grabbing his gun but keeping his finger off the trigger, Carter stepped out of the car and flashed the empty side of his own wallet at the man he'd almost run over- though his glamor would make it look like a police badge.

“Sir, stop right there. We've had reports of gang violence in the area. I'm gonna need you to leave the area right away.” Carter called out in an authoritative shout that he personally would have bristled at.

He had no way of suspecting that the man he spoke to, Theo, would easily see through the illusion- the thin magic looking like a cheap transparent overlay over Carter's real appearance.

[Theo Crowhurst]

Cinder (Third Eye) Complete success

Theo was jogging when the car came at him, turning a corner and revving like it was about to run him over. The Englishman acted on instinct, jumping out of the way of the oncoming car and diving for a square stone bench that might stop the car before it hit Theo, if it the driver turned to aim for him. The screech of the tyres on the paved flagstones told Theo death-by-car wasn't in his immediate future, but as the car door opened he got to his feet, eyes blinking in the sudden bright headlights. His night vision was fucking ruined, but the car had turned when it had come to a sudden stop and he wasn't getting it shone straight into his eyeballs anymore.

As a figure came out of the car, Theo could see the strange overlay around the man, an illusion of some sort. By pure habit, Theo glimpsed into that magical sight, the curse heating against his sternum, and showing the flimsy covering turning the sloppily dressed man into the stereotypical sight of a detective. And the shape of what looked like a horrifically burnt corpse behind him. Was he haunted?

“Pull the other one, it's got bells on,” Theo retorted roughly, ignoring what the man said entirely. His patience was running low after almost being run over. With a gun still pointed at him, Theo wasn't going to relax, and he couldn't see if the idiot was observing basic gun safety rules. The curse, responding to the tense situation, was growing hotter under his sternum, dripping down under his skin and prickling at his nerves. Theo continued, calling back, loudly and angrily, his accent strong on each word, “Bloody amateur. Put the fucking gun away, what on earth do you think you're doing?”

He'd get shot before he could go for a gun or his sword, he knew, but he could use the curse if he had to. His fingers flexed, and he didn't drop the hand curled around the grip of one of the Sigs.

[James Carter]

Carter got a better look at the man after a moment. Older, fairly pretty, and very obviously going for his gun but hadn't drawn it yet, probably because Carter already had his out. Carter didn't dip his finger to his trigger just yet, but he did widen his stance for a better shooting pose. “Easy now, I-” before he could get far the guy called him an amateur. Which was insulting. Accurate but insulting.

Taking the man's words, his tone, and more suddenly his general gait- Carter came to a new conclusion. “Well fuck did I just try and pull a fast one on a real cop?” the guy kind of seemed like an officer.

Carter didn't lower his gun either, but he called Darla to stepped closer to her husband to give him power. “Easy now Mister. I know it probably feels like a great idea to do something real dumb and then head toward that water- but why don't we all settle nice and slow like and talk it out over there.” Carter said, gestering with a tilt of his head away from the dock but never Taking his eyes off the man.

James wasn't acting like he planned to shoot the older man but it was clear he was equally on guard against a sudden escalation of force. Unfortunately Carter didn't have the same instinct to check the spooky side of things or Darla might have showed him the odd look to the angry man's chest... and revealed that his detective disguise was fully broken for the gentleman.

[Theo Crowhurst]

Cinder (Light) Complete success
Sorrows (5) Third eye.

“Are you daft? Put the fucking gun down,” Theo near enough roared, sick and tired of the fucking grandstanding of a slob eager to get caught for reckless driving. He was showing he didn't have a single clue by crashing in here like a reckless maniac, nevermind failing to recognise the signs of a charmed person–or lack thereof. “If I was charmed by that watery bint, I wouldn't be giving you the time of day, mate!”

Tired of standing at gunpoint in the near-dark, he let the curse flare up, intense heat dripping down every single nerve as a collection of miniature suns burst into existence above their heads. They shone brightly around the pair, bathing them in a pool of daylight, and the new light gave Theo a clear look at the man's face. Whether he got out of this with a gunshot wound or nothing much at all, he'd fucking remember it.

Even as the area was lit up, a third eye blinked open on his forehead. Theo's vision swam as he suddenly had three eyes providing information to his brain, but he was tensed up so firmly that he didn't waver even as the third eye blinked rapidly where it sat, right in the middle of his forehead.

[James Carter]

Oddly enough a man with his hand on a gun shouting didn't much make Carter want to put the gun down. Though the fact that it hadn't turned to an old west movie did made him less likely to up the guy's lead intake on a whim.

The second line however was actually helpful. Carter raised an eyebrow in wry bemusement. “Watery bint eh?” he said. If this loud twatwwaffles throwing shade like that and referring to charms then things changed their stance considerably. Carter was about to show a touch of good faith...

Then something new happened.

Darla saw it first and stepped between the two men, intent on protecting Carter per their arrangement. But the attack, which it wasn't, went up not forward. They were bathed in light and the sudden shift would have caused Carter to fire if he hadn't kept his finger off the trigger.

James glared then let out a long slow breath, before tilting his gun and showing his palms. It was a sign he no longer had a bead on the light bringer... though if that hand came up with the gun toward Carter the southerner had every intention of dropping a knee to make it harder to get line of sight and then fire three shots into the tea sipper's thick head.

“Consider'n your little light show I'm gonna assume you can see through my outfit.” Carter said good natured, though with an oddly smug grin.

[Theo Crowhurst]

Cinder (Resist Siren Song) Complete success

In the pool of daylight, Theo could see the man clearly, and he could also see when the gun tilted and the man showed his palms. The Englishman dropped his hand from the grip of his Sig, satisfied that bullets weren't going to be flying. The man had a great big hunk of metal behind him, should the worst happen, so Theo wasn't overly concerned.

“You weren't convincing, even if it had worked,” Theo remarked, voice rough, his three eyes still glaring at the man, but the tension was bleeding away. He had a feeling the man was counting on not being scrutinised too closely. Quickly get rid of someone before they could ask any pointed questions. Why he thought pulling a gun on a man he thought was charmed would work at all was a mystery, but Theo had a feeling the man didn't think things through, by his ridiculous entrance. Theo let out an annoyed breath, half-turning to look down the way he knew the siren was, her song changing as the monster realised someone was nearby, lured in one way or another. Theo cursed under his breath, cursing the siren and the bloody mess he'd had sprung on him. He glanced back at the man, before turning fully and starting to jog towards the sound. “Now she knows we're here. Stay out of the way, mate,” he called behind him, hoping the man left well enough alone and left him to his work. The daylight moved with him, the little suns bobbing along overhead. It'd make the fight a little clearer, at least.

The siren had been singing through the whole thing, although she'd stuttered into silence when the pair had been shouting at each other. She'd started up again now, the haunting melody reaching out to them, tempting them. She was close and knew they were nearby. Maybe knew her chosen victims were onto her, but it was too soon to tell. So much for catching her by surprise.

[James Carter]

Cinder (resist siren) 6d6: 6 passes (Exceptional Success)

Carter narrowed his eyes a bit when the man said he wasn't convincing. The southerner didn't mind the comment itself, between a gun and a fake badge you'd be surprised how little convincing most people took. Oh sure they might call the cops after but they got out of the way first. No, Carter focused on the phrasing instead. No mention of being a cop or impersonating one, which official types got all grumpy about when they got the chance, just that James had not been convincing. So not a cop? Guy held himself like one though, former? Retired? Or something close? Worth filing away regardless.

Brushing dust off his shoulder, the illusion fell away since it wasn't doing any good anyway. Then the song started up again and Carter moved his eyes toward the water even as the old man, because Carter decided that was how he was going to pointedly think of him in his head, turned to look as well. The song pulsed from the water and rolled over the land, brushing over Carter and Darla... but James had his hackles up now and didn't give two shits to bother listening. “Damn noisy.” he muttered as he checked his gun and started to saunter forward. The old man called back that Carter should stay out of the way, which made Carter want to get very in the way but he repressed that urge. Instead he posted up on the man's right side a few steps behind and watching the water.

“Worry about yourself, old timer.” Carter said as his eyes scanned the water.

Behind him Darla's burnt form began to glow like embers in a dying fire. Small licks of phantom flame running along her shoulders. There was a fight coming and she was already annoyed that this 'watery bint' had been singing to her husband in the night... she wondered if she could boil the bitch in the sea before she ever even surfaced.

[Third on the Match]

Electric Love

DC
4

Intent
Hostile

Keywords
Electricity, Sound/Song, Empathy, Water

Cinder
8d6

Strike
7d6

Luck
5

When the siren begins to sing again, it's further down the docks than before, the creature having decided to distance herself from the commotion. They can still hear her though, her song haunting and beautiful on the breeze. They both feel the temptation, although those aware of it are able to reason their way through it.

They find the siren on the far edge of an out-of-the-way dock for a water taxi. Situated near a pedestrian walkway, the dock only extends out into the water a little ways and is made of concrete, allowing easy embarkation for passersby who fancy a ride about the harbor. However, the water taxi service is closed for the evening--after all, there isn't much to see on the harbor in the dead of night.

In the distance, they can make out the sounds of carousing, bars full of people enjoying at late night out on the town.

Being on alert for prey, the siren sees them when they see her. The miniature suns help. Theo, in particular, draws her attention as his reputation proceeds him, and she bares her teeth in hostility, hissing his name. "Crowhurst."

The siren does not flee. Instead, the two men's hair stands on end as static electricity fills the air. Around them, light fixtures start to hum, their currents overcharging. One sparks and fizzles out.

In Combat
The electric siren attacks immediately, using her electric shocks to stun before attempting to drag her prey into the water. With magical control over electricity, she does not need to touch her prey to zap them, instead drawing from surrounding sources, as well as the electroreceptors in her stout tail. Although a nullification can zero out her control, it will not stop an ongoing electric shock, as that is mundane. She is immune to electricity.

If reduced to fewer than 2 Luck, she will try to flee.

[Theo Crowhurst]

Encounter Cinder (Electricity) 3 vs. DC3, hit
Cinder (Null) 5 vs. DC4, hit.
Null Contested against Cinder (Electricity) 3 passes, blocked. Exceeds by 2, Siren's Cinder blocked for two posts.
Sorrows (2) Bad Luck Charm: -1d6 on the next roll in the thread.

Theo was deaf to the man as he ran along the waterside, attention on the siren he'd come to deal with. She'd moved further away, cottoning on to them being onto her. The song rose and fell on the breeze, feeling more intense now that she wasn't simply luring them, but entrapping a threat.

With the suns bobbing along, Theo didn't see the need to attempt to creep up on her. He ran full tilt, shoes rhythmically thudding on stone paving and the occasional wood slats along the waterslide, mooring points for boats, additions to the existing older construction. The suns followed him, shedding near enough daylight. At the distance, it might just look like he had an incredibly powerful torch in hand.

His attention narrowed on the siren, even if he was distantly aware of the nightlife continuing around them. It didn't matter when the siren came into view, and her eyes met his. He heard his name interrupting the song, the hostile tone nothing new to the Inquisitor to Easthaven. The thrum of electricity in the air and the smell of ozone was all the warning he needed, and Theo jerked his arm up to shield himself with his forearm. In most situations, it would do nothing, but he paired it with the magic dampening power he'd honed.

The electricity struck, but fizzled on contact and the magic collapsed, flinching back from him like it was alive. He didn't escape unharmed, the electricity jolting him as the curse took its pound of flesh. Theo felt jittery in the aftermath, not listening to the the siren's shrieking in rage as she cursed his name again. The important thing was the way she flinched back, and the Englishman's hand went to the hilt of his sword, drawing it in one smooth motion, the leather-slick sound the only sound of the ancestral sword entering the fray.

Theo did not call for her surrender. She'd caused too many dead bodies for mercy to be an option with the Exchange.

Theo Luck 4/5
Siren Luck 4/5
Siren's Cinder inaccessible for 2 consecutive posts 2/2

[James Carter]

Siren Strike 7d6: 2vs3 DC Miss
Carter Cinder (Illusion) 6d6: 2vs4 DC Miss

Carter wasn't entirely used to this. Running in straight on, under a literal light, and facing foes. He tended to approach problems from the side, as it were, and try and talk or shiest his way through one way or another. Nothing wrong with the direct approach mind, because he knew better than most that sometimes someone- or something in this case- just needed killing. Moving at the man's right side it wasn't long until Carter spied the 'watery bint' they had heard singing. Oh she was a looker for sure, just that right layer of uncanny where from a distance it could just be some darlin sitting by the water or might be something very very bad. With the light over them, it seemed to learn far more to the something bad side of things in Carter's eye. Not that he could judge, his wife looked like a smoldering corpse to him most the time. Speaking of, he could feel the heat of her at his back, as if he was standing facing away from a bon fire. Oh she was not liking this fish one bit.

That was good and bad. On one had it meant she wouldn't do much to stop this fight from happening... on the other hand Darla tended to not worry too much about Carter's safety in these situations. Oh she might help him if something was really going to kill him, but she probably wouldn't lift a finger to stop any fires from burning his skin. Especially if they were ones she caused. Yeah... her investment in a fight was a double-edged sword king of deal. Hey how long have the lights been buzzing? Carter glanced at the lights, since he didn't know what a Crow Hearse was or what it had to do with any of this, and focused on what seemed to matter more. Sparks.

When that first jolt of electricity rang out Carter dived to the side and went low. Mostly because lightning naturally wanted to hit the taller object and he hoped it would be the British fella. In fact it was, and even better the guy seemed well prepared to deal with magical electricity. That snake of lightning snapped back from him then dissipated as a wave of... something rolled off the man. Carter couldn't see it but Darla felt it so he did too. No time to worry about what it was though, instead Carter stood up in time to see the Siren claw at the concrete and tear a chunk off which she threw. Now if Carter was a bettin boy, and he is it is a very serious problem, he would say she had actually been aiming at the fine Brit that took her lighting like a champ. But her aim was off and it went toward Carter instead.

He stepped to the side and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Yeah that was gonna be a pain if she kept doing that. Carter bit his tongue and tasted a bit of blood in his mouth then pointed his free hand at the siren. He started to draw on the power Darla represented, that feeling of warmth spreading from his back to his shoulders and chest and then down his extended arm. He made the universal arcane gesture of attack: a finger gun. “คשèﻮ.” He said as he closed one eye and tried to channel that perspective of lost sight as an illusion through the air. Oh this was a nifty trick he picked up, using illusions to project black nothingness at someone's very sight. As long as they didn't have the Sight, Third Eye, extrasensory ability, or an actual extra eye hidden somewhere, it was a very handy little trick.

Only the moment Darla felt the power being drawn... an channeled toward something that wasn't fire, she stamped her foot on the ground and pulled the power back. The magic Carter was throwing withered and died only a foot or so from his person. He felt it happen and if Theo had been watching he would have seen the small shower of embers flare behind Carter where his wife stomped her ghostly foot. Carter glanced at his hand, still holding the finger gun pose, and then scowled. “Aw, you bitch.” he said. Darla made a note to make him pay for that later and he winced when he realized what he had said a moment too late. He looked back to Theo to note the man now had an honest to god Sword. Jeez, well it was old school but classics never go out of style.

“Looks like my magic is being difficult tonight, what d'you think police response time is around here?” Carter asked, waving his gun to make sure the British Not-A-Cop got why he was asking. Oh sure, James had waved the gun around earlier like he didn't care... but if a local that went around throwing small suns of light and waving a sword was available to answer he saw no reason not to ask.

Carter Luck 4/4
Unchained 2/3
Siren Luck 4/5
Siren's Cinder inaccessible for 2 consecutive posts 1/2

[Theo Crowhurst]

Strike (Blade) 1 pass vs. DC4, miss
Encounter Strike 3 vs. DC3, hit

There was a tremor in his body, but his hands were tight around the hilt of his sword. The electric jolt hadn't been deadly, but it set his nerve endings haywire, muscles tense and the rush of adrenaline making him feel light-headed in the immediate aftermath. The rest was muscle memory, his training overriding the troubles of the body as he readied himself for a fight. He felt just a little uncoordinated, the third eye on his forehead making his vision just a little odd, but he'd pushed through worse.

He wasn't off-balance enough to miss the siren's scrabbling for something to throw, her long, ragged nails scraping up a chunk of rotting concrete and throwing it. Her aim was off if she'd been aiming for him, but he heard the scrape of shoes on concrete as the hanger-on with the gun presumably got out of the way, leaving the concrete chunk to clatter into the ground and skitter away from them. Theo glanced at the man, trying to gauge what the outlier in this equation would do. He couldn't go charging in if the man was going to try to shoot the siren, but instead, the man said a single, unknown word, followed by a ridiculous hand gesture and... nothing, although something sparked behind him.

Theo's brows furrowed, confused, and looking back to the siren, hunched over and straining–for her magic, he had to guess–nails scraping over the rough concrete, before he glanced back at the man, who spoke. Having 'difficult' magic was something Theo was familiar with, but he couldn't say what made this man's magic difficult. The rest of it, he had an answer for, though.

“Last resort! We don't want the fucking police here,” Theo ground out, knowing the few connections they had to the police wouldn't hold up to delaying any response to gunfire. As he spoke, he was moving forward, sword at the ready and engaging the siren, throwing a last remark over his shoulder. “My agents can only run interference for so long.” And Theo didn't want to get shot.

Especially not as he closed the distance, although he didn't get a chance to get a proper hit out as her thick, muscled tail swung out to strike. Theo didn't have a hope to avoid it, taking the blow to the side with a grunt, feeling his ribs protesting the punishment, but nothing cracked yet. He slammed the pommel down into the thick limb, but all it did was make the siren slither her tail away, bringing her hands up, long nails gleaming under the unnatural sunlight.

Theo Luck 3/5
Siren Luck 4/5
Siren Cinder block 0/2

[James Carter]

Carter has given Assiatance to Theo's next Strike
Encounter Strike 3 vs 3 DC: Hit!

Carter nodded once at the man's call for last resort. The southerner took that to mean response time was pretty decent there. A shame but not totally unexpected, he reached toward his leg and pulled a small knife from his boot. It was, ironically, a fish gutting blade. Carter liked the small hook at the top for cutting line... or making a cut much nastier than a normal knife.

He kept his gun in hand but started pacing forward, still a touch behind Theo. The man mentioned agents, so Carter started cutting down options for the man in the back of his mind. FBI? Too British and they didn't really do much with this kind of thing- he couldn't devote much more to that thought as he got into the thick of it.

Theo was moving his sword around like he knew how to use it... plus better reach than a knife. Yeah... yeah Carter was going to put faith in the other man's martial abilities for now.

5hus, when the fish was reorienting itself and pulling back a claw to swing- Carter stepped forward and kicked out a leg at the siren's arm to interrupt motion.

He pulled his leg back with a jolt feeling his muscles tingle all the way up the calf. It had been like full kicking a brick wall. Fuck why did the supernatural types have to be so fuck all strong.

He stepped back right away, babying his kick'n leg a bit from the brief blow- but he hoped the other man had the eye to use the brief opening to good effect.

Meanwhile a low buzz started to build up as the siren felt it's magical connection to the spark of power so common in modern cities reestablish... it had its magic back.

Carter Luck 3/4
Unchained 2/3
Siren Luck 4/5

[Theo Crowhurst]

Strike 6 passes vs. DC4, hit
Encounter Cinder (Water) 3 passes vs. DC3, hit

In the thick of it, there was thankfully no gunfire. Instead, the man threw himself in bodily. The kick gave the Englishman an opening he didn't hesitate to take, stepping in he brought his sword down in an overhead blow, but she was fast enough to bring her arms up to grip the blade before it impacted with her head. The blade cut into her palms, but she held it off and Theo smoothly stepped in, swinging the pommel underneath her grip and slamming it into her face, causing her to stagger back with a shriek. She remained upright thanks to her muscular tail, more snakelike than fishlike despite the fins.

His ribs twinged at the movement, her cry ringing in his ears, and the siren curled her bleeding hands into claws and swept them out. Blood droplets scattered, freezing midair into sharp projectiles shooting out at them. Theo brought his forearm up again, shielding his eyes–his face was more vulnerable now with three of them–and felt the sting of them cutting into his skin, slicing fabric and skin.

Theo Luck 2/5
Siren Luck 3/5

[James Carter]

Carter Cinder (Necromancy) vs 4 DC: Hit
Encounter Cinder (Electricity) vs 3 DC: Hit

Carter was pretty pleased with how things were going all in all. The Brit had swung his sword, the monster caught the blade, and then the guy did some maneuver Carter didn't get a good look at from his vantage that left the thing pretty pissed off. So the southerner took it as a win over all. Hell it almost looked like a choreographed fight scene from a movie and that was pretty neat. Then the thing threw shards of frozen blood.

Bitch.

Carter spun. It was actually a little move he learned for dance, turning to avoid the shard and then dropping to a knee before he repositioned his body and sprang forward. Fancier looking than needed but in truth it was just old muscle memory kicking in. He'd feel a touch embarrassed if anyone actually noted that he had done it.

Darla noted it and rolled her charred glowing orange eyes.

Stepping up to the Siren from the side, Carter drew on Darla's power again. Last time she'd pulled it back and his spell fizzled about a foot away from him in the air... so he just needed to make sure the watery tart was close enough that if that happened again it didn't matter. Right?....
Right!?

Carter bolstered his gun in his waistband as he closed in and then threw out his empty hand. He grabbed the Siren by the wrist and hissed out “ςђєςђє.” creole again. Carter liked using the Haitian dialect for his offensive work, since what his family produced while they were running a plantation in the deep south was both functionally and morally offensive in his mind.

As the power from his wife bloomed she immediately started to pull it back when she saw he still wasn't using fire. But it didn't matter, Carter was right about shrinking the distance and a web of black veins swam along the Siren's arm. He'd set a touch of death into its blood to harm it.

Then it drank up a bit of electricity through the air and zapped the shit out of the man. Before he could let go a bright flash and zap threw Carter back several feet, his knife flattering against the ground and his gun falling out of his waistband.

He wanted to say something quipy once his head stopped swimming, but his muscles were locked up and he couldn't even open his jaw. Darla chuckled beside him.

Carter Luck 2/4
Unchained 1/3
Siren Luck 2/5

Carter is

[Theo Crowhurst]

Strike 1 pass vs. DC4, miss
Encounter Cinder (Sound/Song) 5 passes vs. DC3, hit
Contested 4 passes vs. 5, failure

Pauses rarely happened in genuine fights, so even as Theo shielded his eyes, he heard the shuffle of movement from the other guy involved in the scrap. The clatter of metal on concrete had him dropping his forearm and lunging for the siren again, thrusting his longsword in a stab for centre mass, but the siren slithered out of the way and the blade only scraped over rough scale. It sliced through some, but it was not a deadly cut.

In retaliation, the siren grabbed Theo by the throat, pressing his chin up as she tightened her clawed grip, slick with blood from the cuts. Simultaneously, her voice rose in a haunting aria, magic threading throughout the sound and burrowing into Theo's mind. The tip of his sword dipped, even if his grip on the hilt didn't slacken, and it was only an automatic reaction to bring his free hand up to hook his fingers over her wrist, although his ensorceled mind didn't try to pull himself loose.

Theo Luck 1/5
Siren Luck 2/5

[James Carter]

Carter Cinder (Fire) 3 pass vs 4 DC: Miss
Encounter Strike 4 pass vs 3 DC: Hit!

Carter rolled for a second as his back muscles tightened up in pain then loosened leaving feeling like a wrung out rag. Still, that old saying about the rest for the wicked and what it. He sat up and saw that, things were going poorly now. The Siren had the Brit by the neck.

This had been going so good a second ago. He reached for his gun only to realize he'd lose ot when he'd been shocked. Fuck. Then his kni- ah that was on the ground between the Siren and him.

Sneering a bit, James bit the bullet and decided to give Darla what she wanted. He tapped into the power and snapped his fingers to get a lite going with the friction, something impossible without that spark of magic. “Brûler... aw fuck.” he said as he didnt even feel a drop of power from his wife.

He could still do a touch with Necromancy or Illusion even when she held out on him, but the fire? That was all from her. No support then no flame.

She'd picked a hell of a time to kick him out to sleep on the couch- magically speaking. He'd snubbed her twice on her desire to burn the fish down and she wasn't going to give him any juice now.

Clicking his tongue, Carter ran forward to grab for his knife since Darla wasn't helping none, only instead of a knife he got a fishy tail to the face knocking him back and rattling his dome.

Next time a Siren woke him up he was going to stay in the car and just run the bitch over...

Carter Luck 1/4
Unchained 0/3
Siren Luck 2/5

[Theo Crowhurst]

Encounter Cinder (Sound/Song) 4 passes vs. DC3, hit
Contested 5 passes vs. 4, success
Cinder (Light) 2 passes vs. DC4, miss
Sorrows (3) Reroll, (6) Mirror (Overload: AOE) + Gilded applies to everyone in the thread.
Overload targeting Theo & Encounter (4 passes vs. DC4 + DC3, hit

The siren continued her song, lifting Theo by the neck as he was helplessly caught by the haunting tune. He barely reacted to the choking feeling, although his body struggled weakly, his hand tightening around her wrist on reflex. It took a moment, Theo struggling to breathe, but her song stuttered momentarily–and interruption beyond Theo's narrow view–and it was enough for her control of his mind to slip.

From one moment to the next, Theo burst into a struggle, tightening his hand around her wrist and struggling to take a breath. Panicked, he reached for the curse, feeling his sternum heating painfully as he struggled. Control slipped through his fingers, the sun hovering above them flaring and crackling as it lost stability, shuddering and sputtering like a sun ready to go supernova.

“Shit!” Theo ground out, dread trickling down his spine as he realised what was happening, even as gold spread over the siren's wrist and the hilt of his sword. “Get out of the way!” he hoarsely shouted, desperate, but the warning came mere moments before the sun lost altitude, dipping down towards them, and exploded in a burst of burning light.

The siren shrieked and let go of his neck, and the explosion pushed the pair away from each other, sending Theo flying into a stanchion along the docks, narrowly avoiding flying straight into the harbour. The sword clattered out of his grip, sliding somewhere unknown for the moment, as Theo drew in a ragged breath and slapped at his burning clothing, his head swimming dangerously as he stared at the burns along his arms, the smell of singed hair hovering around him.

Theo Luck 0/5
Siren Luck 1/5

[James Carter]

Carter Strike 2 passes vs 4 DC: Miss!
Siren Cinder Electricity 4 passes vs 3 DC: Hit!

When shit hits the fan, or something wildly unexpected happens, its very easy to look at it from the outside and reason out what should have been done. Anyone can read an article and criticize how someone reacted, but until you are in that moment yourself you can never really say if what someone did was wrong or not. This should be kept in mind keenly when looking back on how the Siren acted as it watched his hand start to turn solid gold. A man who had countered its most potent magical ability, thrown around a sword, and had a reputation for dealing with the Sirens... Crowhurst. When the Siren saw its hand turning gold it could only assume some terrible spell had just been cast on it, indeed there was even a pulse of some magical power the beast felt wash over the area. It would not be turned into a golden statue for the Siren Slayer to display like some grim trophy. True, it panicked... a bit.

The Siren opened its mouth, revealing rows of sharp triangular teeth, and with the ever widening motion the things black eyes rolled to the back of its own head. Then it launched forward onto the flesh of its own arm and bit down, tearing and throwing away what was soon a golden claw. The creature had no way to know it was a temporary and relatively harmless effect, it had just assumed the worst. Now clutching its bleeding stump it saw the altercation as no longer in its favor.

Carter was mostly unaware of all of these minor details and thoughts as he stumbled up, grabbed his gun, and got ready to open fire. Police time be damned. Only his gun didn't fire... it just turned golden. “What the actual fuck?” he asked annoyed. The Siren shot him a contemptuous look before flicking its tail. A stream of energy leapt from the fin and struck Carter in the chest, knocking him down and sending his limbs convulsing painfully. "I will kill you all." it hissed as he quickly slithered to the water's edge. Lowering itself into the black deep of the ocean it let his head rest above the water for just a second. This pain in its torn arm.... it would not forget this.

Then the siren was gone, having escaped.

Carter fumbled on the ground a bit as the energy ran through his body leaving him tired and strung out on the ground. He panted as he glanced over toward the British man. Old timer with the sword seemed well enough... considering they'd both just gotten their asses kicked. James rolled onto his back and worked to take in some good gulps of cool refreshing life-affirming air. “I'm Carter, by the way.” he said aloud to the old timer.

Carter Luck 0/4
Unchained 0/3
Siren Luck[unit=1, max=5]

The Siren as escaped... but will return.

[Theo Crowhurst]

Even as his vision swam, the edges flickering dark, Theo kept patting down the flames. Each movement of his arms jostled his battered ribs, and he had a feeling he'd finally broken at least one on impact. He was down for the count, even if he'd been able to get his hands on his sword again, so it was a relief when he saw the hulking shape of the siren slither away, leaving them to recover with a last parting promise. Join the bloody club, was all Theo could think, even as he slumped down with the immediate threat having left.

He could hear the harsh breathing of the other guy and found himself thankful that both of them were alive, even if neither had come out of it on top. The most depressing part of the job was navigating collateral damage, the decision whether to let them become another missing person statistic or try to make it seem like an accidental death, depending on how much was left. The decision didn't have to be made, tonight.

The man spoke, giving Theo a name, and the Englishman responded with a short, “Crowhurst,” to maintain a modicum of politeness. He focused on himself for the moment, painfully sitting up and leaning against the stanchion he'd collided into. Digging into a pocket, wincing and holding back a grunt of pain, he dug out a tub of Vick's, doctored with Rizzo's healing magic. He uncapped it and scooped up a messy chunk, starting to smooth it over the burns along his arms. It would help until he could get to the offices and get someone to properly look at him, especially his ribs, but he'd have to drive home to do that.

“Anything broken?” he asked as an afterthought, voice gruff and hoarse, watching the burns heal, the skin knitting itself together.

[James Carter]

James let his body just relax, which was much harder than it had any right to be. He tried to feel out for anything more messed up than anything else but nothing was really registering. Meaning the only way to really tell was to do the one thing he really didn't want to do. He had to move. With a grunt he lifted and arm, then let it fall... that sucked. He did it two more times until he had the momentum to roll over to his chest, at which point he put his arms under him and lifted himself up. That was actually promising. A push up really didn't need much motor control but if he'd broken a collar bone or something he wouldn't have even been able to manage that. He slid his knees up and was glad to see that he could still do that too. The man introduced himself back as Crowhurst... meaning it was his name that the Siren had said before. Lovely, Carter had just stepped into the middle of some grudge match.

Whatever.

When the Old Timer, because even with a name Carter already decided he was going to think of him as that, asked if anything was broken James took another look to reassess. All in all he was surprisingly ok, save that his gun looked like an expensive paperweight. Why the hell did that happen. The Siren's hand was golden too... how much was a torn up 24k monster hand worth anyway? “Nothing that won't fix with time, you?” James replied. He pushed hard and got up to his knees, which suddenly seemed like a terrible idea as his vision swam. Turns out getting shocked over and over again was pretty bad for your health, who knew? Still, considering how Crowhurst was holding his side maybe James got off easier. “Did you do something to make stuff turn gold or am I just hallucinating?” Carter asked when he noticed his rings on his hand had gone from silver to gold as well.

[Theo Crowhurst]

The response only got a grunt out of Theo, not in the mood to explain about his ribs and the burns, as he smoothed the ointment over the worst of it. As he continued to speak, Theo barely reacted to the flickering gold that sometimes came out of the curse. It had faded for Theo, the Midas touch he was cursed with, by the time the siren slithered away, but his clothing was scattered with golden flakes. He'd barely noticed, so used to that particular side effect, only taking in the hallmarks of it when the man–Carter–mentioned it.

“A side-effect,” he said distantly, making it clear he did not intend to elaborate. He brushed away some of the flakes of gold, knowing they would disappear eventually. Impermanent, more fool's gold than anything else. “It'll disappear in a bit.”

He capped the lid on the Vick's tub, slipping it back into his pocket before he reached for the top of the stanchion, bracing himself on it to lift himself back to his feet. It was painful, each jostle threatening to make his breath hitch, but he didn't make a sound. The pain was familiar, at this point, it was just a sign he was alive.

[James Carter]

As Carter slowly worked himself to standing he felt like he'd taken a long nap and his limbs were still asleep, also the bed had kicked the shit out of him for some reason and then given him a hangover without the alcohol. He stumbled a bit as he collected his gun and knife. James noted that the gold on the gun did indeed just look like someone coated in thing in gold spray paint now, and that paint was cracking and peeling. Crowhurst said it'd vanish in a bit, which is a shame because even with fake gold Carter could have run the market selling off gold guns and doodads. Ah well.

He looked and saw the old timer was getting himself up and putting away his vapo-rub. The stanchion made a fairly solid walker too, heh solid... ba-dum-tsk. As Carter moved closer his legs became more sure with each step. Not exactly good, but he wasn't feeling at risk of falling over or anything. He looked the other man over a bit then nodded to himself. “Let's head back to my car, I'll drop you off wherever you need to be.” he offered. Considering what he learned about Crowhurst he doubted the man would ask to be dropped off at a hospital and Carter was curious about where a guy that threw swords at watery bints in the ocean went to get doctored.

[Theo Crowhurst]

At the other man's suggestion, Theo shook his head, realising absently that his third eye had disappeared at some point. “Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I'm parked nearby,” he elaborated, stepping over to where his sword had slid to a stop, bending down to pick it up and gritting his teeth against the pain. He took a moment to inspect the blade, looking for nicks or scrapes, wiping dirt off of it with his ruined shirt.

He turned to face the man, sliding his sword back into its sheath, as he started to walk in the direction they'd come. As the hilt settled snugly into its cradle, the enchantment activated, leaving the sword obscured. Not invisible, but anyone looking would find their eyes sliding straight past it, without really taking it in. A well-placed notice-me-not enchantment.

[James Carter]

Carter noticed the sword, or rather at a certain point he stopped noticing it and that's what he proper noticed. It wasn't too different from his own tricks, though at a guess he'd say it was a lot more refined and likely stronger in general. No harsh feelings over it, if Carter got grumpy over every time someone had stronger magic or better toys than him he'd never crack a smile again. Les Cafards don't pride themselves on being the best or the strongest, they pride themselves on being the most stubborn, persistent, shifty cusses around. It ain't such a thing to be proud of but it was all the Family had. Even someone that walked away from it like James.

Carter was about to start moving for his own ride when he felt Darla.

A hand against his chest and her lips at his ear. Like she was leaning in to kiss him. The skin on his chest, under his shirt, turned red in the shape of a slender palm while his left ear went red. His whole body broke out in a small sweat as his temperature rose a few degrees. He heard her words. Darla almost never speaks to him. They don't get on that well best of days and when she does talk to him it tends to give him a slight fever since she doesn't bother protecting him from her fire. Put him in the hospital once with Heatstroke when he'd forced a conversation with her. So when she spoke on her own, Carter tended to shut up and listen. No easy thing for him.

A moment later the air touched him like a cool ocean breeze and his body started to adjust its climate zone again. “Jeez, I hear ya. Hey, Crowhurst.” Carter said, aiming to get the Old Timer's attention so this wasn't a limp and talk kind of conversation.

“I dunno if you can see ghosts, I'm assuming you know enough to believe in 'em though. My wife here wants a proper introduction.” Carter said, gesturing at empty air next to him. Darla had the good grace to step into the spot and curtsy in case the handsome British gentleman could indeed see spirits. “This is my Missus and better half, Darla Carter.” he said. She had been Darla Céline Meilleur, but part of their deal that bound them meant she had Carter's name now. Carter's name, not the Les Cafard name. That's important now, remember it.

“She also says I'd be a right bastard not to make sure you don't get where you're getting safely. So I'm with you until we get somewhere you can kick yer feet up.” Carter added. He didn't care if he followed behind Crowhurst in the separate car but he would be damned if Darla gave him first degree burns because the Crowhurst didn't know when visiting hours ended at the Old Folks home for wayward swordsmen or wherever they ended up going.

[Theo Crowhurst]

Cinder (Third Eye) Complete success

Theo was checking his clothing, taking in the damage, and thanking his lucky stars that the walk to the car wasn't too far of a walk when the other man spoke again. Confusing, at first, before the direct address, but hearing his name Theo met the man's eyes, beginning to walk as the man continued speaking. The Englishman's brow furrowed, a faint frown gracing his expression, as Carter filled in some blanks for him. Ghosts, he was saying, which reminded Theo of the spectre behind the man earlier.

Narrowing his eyes, he allowed his magic to spark, his eyes taking in the magic–and the spirit–around the man. It was a split second, barely a proper look, but enough to confirm the man's story. “That's... unorthodox,” Theo settled on, referring to the... spirit marriage. But there were all sorts out there and he didn't linger, looking vaguely where Carter had indicated. “Ma'am,” he intoned, exceedingly polite, before he slid his eyes back to Carter. Her... husband. “The consideration is appreciated but unnecessary. I'm parked not far from where you... parked.” If you'd call it that.

[James Carter]

For the brief moment Theo looked at her the flames and charred skin peeled back to reveal an African American woman in a singed and blackened lounge dress with very short hair slicked down and two long twisting curls framing at her face. Once Theo looked back to James the charred skin spread back over Darla even if she didn't ignite again. She liked meeting mysterious strangers.

Carter just shrugged at the comment on his relationship. “Takes all kinds.” was all he said. Which was a nothing answer to deflect. He didn't need to go on the details of his very transactional and metaphysically binding marriage contract.

“Then I'm seeing you to your car, wife's orders.” Carter said as he walked next to the Old Timer and waited for the other main to make some indication in where they were going.

Darla appreciated Carter listening for once... she wasn't going to forget he called her a bitch earlier... but she appreciated it all the same.

[Theo Crowhurst]

Even if it had lasted by a split second, Theo caught the moment where the burnt figure turned into an unmarred woman. Her dress was what he might term vintage, making him wonder when she'd died by the fire. But it was barely a second before she was gone, and Theo wasn't curious enough to ask something that invasive of a spirit he didn't know the provenance of. Was the man haunted or was it something else? Was she attached to an object he held?

Regardless, the man persisted and Theo couldn't resist turning his eyes heavenward for a moment, but he nodded. “Very well,” he intoned, continuing to walk and deciding to tolerate his escort. There was no harm in it, even if Theo might've preferred to get on with it.