I'm not even certain how to begin this...
It should have been me.
I suppose I should be celebrating. We did it, we removed the machine's presence from Chicago (at least as far as I know). We did everything we set out to do from the first time they found that gear in the basement of Greenbriar. And I suppose, pragmatically, we suffered minimal losses.
I've never been much for pragmatism.
Out of the twelve Soul's Army members we brought, we lost three. Two of them, Jamarcus and Real Badman, came from my team. That should have been warning enough. The other was Little Mike, one of the ones with Greyson.
And then we lost Max.
I keep replaying those last few seconds in my head. What if I'd had Lightning? What if I'd gone to that group instead of helping Chloe? What if I'd fled in the same direction as Max and thusly prevented him from taking on that angel alone?
And mostly, why wasn't it me? I'm the so-called Angelslayer. I'm the one with the revolver on his desk that has seven notches cut into its grip, one for each angel. I'm the one who should have been their target, not him.
And yet, for all of my "I should have"s he's the one that's dead. So I guess it doesn't matter much.
The only consolation I have is the removal of all angels from play, nine of them by my team. A victory, indeed. But even that final confrontation with Birkin...
Birkin: So you've all made it this far.
Greyson: Not all of us.
Birkin: Oh, that's right.
And then that smug laugh. That "I'm more powerful than you so I get to ridicule you" laugh. That bastard's laugh is what finally sent me over the edge. Almost on instinct, Thunder snapped up and let loose a shot worthy of her name. That blue streak hit the son of a bitch right between the eyes and blew him apart. I didn't even care that the gears flew everywhere. Even that kill couldn't faze me.
How is it that so many mortals lived, and he died? How is it that a man whose only ties to the supernatural are that he hunts them is able to die and come back while Max gets blown apart by a damned angel?
Then end of the night left my group the worst of all of the teams involved. A 75% casualty rate, three of four people dead and gone...
Now that our business with the Machine in Chicago is completed, I suppose I have to look to the future. But I will do that tomorrow night.
Tonight is for me.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
March 13th (Late Evening)
It is almost time.
Two nights ago, we investigated a part of Chicago wherein a number of people had gone missing, spaced out over many years. And it all seemed to be centered around a hospital.
After some failed attempts to get some helpful information from the local police precinct, and finding out that there was zero crime in this part of the city...we set out to make some. We found our way to a bar, where Max and Guillermo got "drunk" and started to fight. Eventually, the cops arrived and tried to arrest them, but a man in a suit walked in and sent the officers away. He asked us why we were there and did not seem to take Guillermo's attempt at a story at all seriously.
Eventually he gave us a choice: walk away and let things be as they are, or get fed to the machine. As we made no move to leave, he exited. Not long after a van arrived with three or four machine gunners. We dispatched three while Max held the third, alive, and quite unwilling to answer our questions. After a brief bit of persuasion, he quite easily told us where we needed to go. It must have been my cutting wit and persuasive speech.
Or the fact that I showed my fangs and threatened to suck his blood.
(Side note: No one on the team seems to be all that comfortable with my eating habits anymore.)
I suppose we'll never really know, because after he told us, he displayed an audacious bout of rudeness to one of the women on the team. I applied an instant corrective measure by shooting him in the thigh, then using my blood to lock him solidly in their van. Then I smiled to the rest of the team, said "Let's go" ... and we went directly to the hospital.
Once there, Mark, Rose, and Chronos stayed up top while the rest of us headed down to the boiler room. Once down there, we dispatched a few more of those cult-like fellows as another angel arrived. He opened up by blasting Oliver against a wall, knocking him out. I was on the other side of a giant machine and missed a fair bit of that fight (I was methodically removing the small threats) but when I came around, the angel was, it seemed, holding Max aloft and crushing him.
I opened fire with both Thunder and Lightning, nailing the angel and sending it back. I would like to think I broke its concentration, because Max then fell to the floor (it also might have been Max fighting back against it, if I am to be fair). Eventually, we were able to bring the thing down and get out of there. Chronos took us all through the spirit world (which freaked Mark out) and we all managed to split off.
Last night, we officially created Ultor Corporation. Hoo-rah.
I also discovered that Chronos, Rose, and Greyson had conducted their two week experiment in the duration of a day. Leaving out a lot of the details (that prove points I've made in the past) they determined that grounding out the angels' insides would cause them to explode. While an excellent point, it appears to be a highly dangerous, and therefore impractical tactic.
Mark contacted me also and told me that he was able to scrounge together a small arsenal as well as blueprints for the building. We discussed them a bit, examined the arsenal, then parted.
Earlier tonight, Mark put together a training session for those who so desired. All attended, so that those unfamiliar with the provided weaponry could get a chance to learn. After a bit, we discussed our options and what is possible for the coming assault. Chronos went over his team's research. We have also tapped Nadya's friend Vashard, the man who makes portals, to get us out after all's said and done. Cyril will be bringing a decent sized group of the Soul's Army. Nadya is talking to Chloe to see if she will help.
Trying not to be overly dour at this meeting, but following along with something Oliver had said, I told them that if they have any outstanding, unfinished business, they would probably want to handle it. To put their affairs in order, if you will. With that in mind, we parted.
As people were leaving, I received a text message. Someone had a gift for me and wanted to meet me at my home.
Never a dull moment..
Two nights ago, we investigated a part of Chicago wherein a number of people had gone missing, spaced out over many years. And it all seemed to be centered around a hospital.
After some failed attempts to get some helpful information from the local police precinct, and finding out that there was zero crime in this part of the city...we set out to make some. We found our way to a bar, where Max and Guillermo got "drunk" and started to fight. Eventually, the cops arrived and tried to arrest them, but a man in a suit walked in and sent the officers away. He asked us why we were there and did not seem to take Guillermo's attempt at a story at all seriously.
Eventually he gave us a choice: walk away and let things be as they are, or get fed to the machine. As we made no move to leave, he exited. Not long after a van arrived with three or four machine gunners. We dispatched three while Max held the third, alive, and quite unwilling to answer our questions. After a brief bit of persuasion, he quite easily told us where we needed to go. It must have been my cutting wit and persuasive speech.
Or the fact that I showed my fangs and threatened to suck his blood.
(Side note: No one on the team seems to be all that comfortable with my eating habits anymore.)
I suppose we'll never really know, because after he told us, he displayed an audacious bout of rudeness to one of the women on the team. I applied an instant corrective measure by shooting him in the thigh, then using my blood to lock him solidly in their van. Then I smiled to the rest of the team, said "Let's go" ... and we went directly to the hospital.
Once there, Mark, Rose, and Chronos stayed up top while the rest of us headed down to the boiler room. Once down there, we dispatched a few more of those cult-like fellows as another angel arrived. He opened up by blasting Oliver against a wall, knocking him out. I was on the other side of a giant machine and missed a fair bit of that fight (I was methodically removing the small threats) but when I came around, the angel was, it seemed, holding Max aloft and crushing him.
I opened fire with both Thunder and Lightning, nailing the angel and sending it back. I would like to think I broke its concentration, because Max then fell to the floor (it also might have been Max fighting back against it, if I am to be fair). Eventually, we were able to bring the thing down and get out of there. Chronos took us all through the spirit world (which freaked Mark out) and we all managed to split off.
Last night, we officially created Ultor Corporation. Hoo-rah.
I also discovered that Chronos, Rose, and Greyson had conducted their two week experiment in the duration of a day. Leaving out a lot of the details (that prove points I've made in the past) they determined that grounding out the angels' insides would cause them to explode. While an excellent point, it appears to be a highly dangerous, and therefore impractical tactic.
Mark contacted me also and told me that he was able to scrounge together a small arsenal as well as blueprints for the building. We discussed them a bit, examined the arsenal, then parted.
Earlier tonight, Mark put together a training session for those who so desired. All attended, so that those unfamiliar with the provided weaponry could get a chance to learn. After a bit, we discussed our options and what is possible for the coming assault. Chronos went over his team's research. We have also tapped Nadya's friend Vashard, the man who makes portals, to get us out after all's said and done. Cyril will be bringing a decent sized group of the Soul's Army. Nadya is talking to Chloe to see if she will help.
Trying not to be overly dour at this meeting, but following along with something Oliver had said, I told them that if they have any outstanding, unfinished business, they would probably want to handle it. To put their affairs in order, if you will. With that in mind, we parted.
As people were leaving, I received a text message. Someone had a gift for me and wanted to meet me at my home.
Never a dull moment..
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