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His superiors opted not to mention the government documents accompanying his client, only that the briefcase sprawled across this bespectacled woman's lap was far more precious than her life. Asha disagreed but nevertheless followed his colleagues to the first class car at the back. Most dispersed throughout the train, leaving a modest handful to stand guard beside him. The closing of doors proved peaceful enough, and so did their departure from The Wharf. Only once the conductor reached cruising speeds did the wicked slink from shadows.
Pushing pitchers of water down the aisle, an attendant suddenly bared fangs. Asha dove to assist his fellow soldier, briefly taking his eyes off the woman now frazzled by how swiftly her documents fell into the hands of a quick-footed evildoer.
The connecting doors slid open then shut. He punched an emergency button, but not before overhead lights indicated other cars faced trouble too.
Two versus one allowed him to knot off the rope and leave this intruder in responsible hands. From one train car to the next, Asha pushed through the ruckus, past Vagrants too embroiled to join him in the hot chase after a thief with too many friends to spare.
To his disadvantage, their commute would be relatively short, leaving him not long to recover the briefcase. He didn't want to imagine how emboldened future bandits would feel if he lost this scoundrel to the thick of Vantalux. Until then, as the locomotive sliced through the air, his pursuee had few places to hide as well.
Post by Norris Laroche on Dec 24, 2019 16:47:54 GMT
A young and rather handsome blonde man was holding a curious looking book with a large metal ‘D’ over the cover, though his face was tragically covered over by the hood of his blue fur coat at the moment. By his side stood a tall man with a much larger trench coat and shades- his mentor. ”This is your big chance to impress the Spire, Foam. Don’t mess it up” were the only words his mentor said to him before the big heist began. Norris was nervous- more than he ever had in his entire life- but he’d already made it this far, even KILLED a man to become an Operative- he wouldn’t give up now. Opening the book to a page somewhere around the middle was a beautifully done sketch of a bespectacled woman holding a briefcase- an image he’d created using his vanta ‘weapon’ based on the description that Crow had given him earlier. After scanning the crowd for a moment the woman was in his sight.
”This way” he said in a hushed tone as he slipped the book back into his satchel, motioning for his mentor to follow after him. Once they were close, Crow gave a few more signals that made their way down the train cars quickly using the Operative’s Code. With that, his mentor grabbed a strange gray orb from his coat pocket and slammed it onto the ground, creating a large burst of smoke that filled the entirety of the car they were in. Using this opportunity to his advantage, Norris sped through the cloud and grabbed onto the briefcase, ripping it from the woman’s grasp and running further down towards the next train car.
He was about to be grabbed by what appeared to be two Vagrants when another Operative stepped in, fending them off long enough for Norris to slip past, though it got him captured in the end. Before the doors could slam shut, the Blonde boy would race through- though it was possible that one of two people might’ve followed behind him. Once the doors were closed however, Crow would stand in front of them, unsheathing two daggers as he prepared to fight off any Vagrants that dared try and cross his path.
The following train car was in chaos as well, another Operative here fending off a Vagrant as passengers screamed in terror. The hooded boy in the blue coat didn’t have time to stare or worry about the mess though- all he could focus on was footing it to the other side of the train as quickly as possible.
The cigarette smoldered in between her fingers as she leaned back and sighed, relaxing. Her feet were propped up on the small table of the private train compartment she was in, preferring silence so she could read her book in peace after her last endeavor back at the Wharf. Violet eyes flew across the ink that danced along the worn pages of the old Hunter's journal, and yet nothing out of the two hundred pages that she had read so far indicated anything at all about the Vanta prosthetic research that she had been Hunting for. Ugh, what a waste of time.
That wouldn't last for long, though, as emergency lights flared up in her compartment. She raised a brow in wonder and some modicum of alarm. The Huntress quickly pocketed the journal into the satchel at her side and got to her feet, her modified brown leather Hunter coat flailing sideways at the abruptness of the motion.
Yazmyn peeked outside only to be forced to slam the door open and dart forward, eyes immediately in attack mode. A knife flew through the air, intent on deeply piercing through skin and drawing no little amount of blood. She managed to get on top of it just in the nick of time, taking hold of the attacker's wrist in one quick motion. He reacted fast and shifted his weight with a foot extended outwards, intent on knocking her off balance. Once again Yazmyn had been surprised, yet not entirely caught off guard.
The blonde Huntress, swift on her feet, immediately let go of the outstretched wrist and darted backwards. Growling, she hopped off of the ground and towards a wall before shifting her own weight mid-air by kicking off of it, intent on opening up with an elbow to his face. Yet mid-air she saw it - he rebounded far too quickly and the dagger was now coming towards her. Acting fast, the blonde once again twisted and turned in the air, switching from an elbow to a dropkick in the blink of an eye. Despite being trained, this attacker hadn't expected this and ended up with boots in his face, being sent flying backwards into Yazmyn's compartment.
Now fully awake and alert, she glanced at the would-be victim coughing uneasily. A Vagrant?
"What the hell is going on?"
She heard a groan and a cough from her compartment. Crap, no time. Fight first, ask questions later.
The blue coat sailed through smoke, but he managed to slip past too. A backward glance told him no others followed. No enemies, but no assistance either. Asha was fast. The other guy was faster. Fueled by adrenaline and a puckish disregard for passenger safety, his back disappeared sooner than expected.
As the Vagrant entered another car, he was welcomed by the glint of killing intent. He lifted Promise, ready to parry, when a new ally put the thought to rest.
She was a huntress, judging less so by her uniform and more so by her fighting prowess. As much as he wanted to catch her name, more pressing matters shoved courtesy aside. He gestured her to follow. “Allow me to brief you on the way.” With stilted breath, as he led her from aisle to aisle. He told her about the ambush of currently unknown scale, the package he’d been assigned to protect, and the man in the blue coat who flew right past her while she struck down the dagger and assailant. “Arresting him and his allies is the least of our worries. That briefcase is our top priority.”
Under any other circumstances, it would’ve been long gone by now. But under these circumstances, when the thief entered the following compartment, he’d notice one of his allies in dangerous company on the opposite side. Seated passengers ducked and covered as ice hurled over their heads.
The vessel guard, recognizing what the thief clutched tight, threw up a frozen curtain to wall off both himself, his melee partner, and passage to further escape. If the nimble blond were to scan for alternatives, he’d notice a diagram beside an emergency window, designed to pop cleanly off and give access to steel bars. Welded to the exterior, they laddered to the top.
In the meantime, the pause let his two pursuants finally burst onto the same stage. Asha, without skipping a beat, let a chakram sing through the air toward pale fingers on the briefcase. Rather than slice, Promise hoped to melt his grip.
“Quietly return what you’ve stolen and we may consider lessening your sentence.” At last, the mouse was cornered.
Post by Norris Laroche on Dec 29, 2019 2:01:39 GMT
As he ran into the second cart, Norris found himself walled off from further passage by a curtain of ice- no doubt the result of one of these damn vagrants’ Vels. ”Tch” he muttered as he turned around, looking for a way out. As he searched, he found himself confronted by two new figures- a man and woman respectively. The blonde lady was quite attractive- if the Operative wasn’t in such a time sensitive situation right now, he’d probably try to hit on her. The fact that he was on a mission however meant that he was hyper focused- doubly so since it seemed she would be an enemy.
The man on the other hand looked like an experienced fighter- someone who could probably whoop the young man’s ass if it came to a fight. No, the goal of this mission wasn’t to fight anyways- all Norris has to do was get away to win, which meant he had to outsmart this guy and his companion.
”That’s awfully kind of you Edgelord, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer. You and Sugar Tits take care, okay?” he called out as he dashed towards the emergency window he’d finally noticed, popping it off with one fluid motion as he quickly climbed the steel bars onto the top of the train.
The Out Lands were a strange and mystical place, especially to Norris who’d never gotten the chance to see them before, but now wasn’t the time to take in his surroundings. Gathering his footing along the top of the speeding train, he continued his journey towards the front car, looking for his compatriots on horseback down below as he did so. ”Come on come on- where the hell is my ride?” he muttered to himself as he pressed onward.
“Arresting him and his allies is the least of our worries. That briefcase is our top priority.”
"Alright," Yazmyn nodded at her newly found Vagrant ally, getting herself in gear for a pursuit. Pleasantries and everything else could wait since there wasn't exactly any time for idle chit-chat. If what this guy was saying was true some government official ordered the transportation of some pretty important documents without arranging a proper sortie of guards. Well, at least the guy she was with now seemed competent enough.
As they whizzed by multiple compartments, the blonde Huntress took note of the many Vagrants fighting off what she could only assume were more Operatives... or whatever kind of task force they were assigned to the retrieval of this special cargo. There were quite a number of them, too. If it weren't for the Vagrants stationed on this particular train they likely would've been overwhelmed fairly quickly. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of information that briefcase had inside it to warrant such a large-scale attack.
She smirked to herself; no time like the present to find out.
It didn't take the Vagrant and Hunter long to finally catch up to the would-be thief. Yazmyn's now-crimson eyes quickly surveyed the surrounding compartment, taking note of all the Vagrants, enemies, and civilians present. A very distinct click of her tongue showed her displeasure at the situation; if these guys tried they could've easily taken a few hostages to make their getaway easier. Thankfully they hadn't yet decided to go that route, which made her job a helluva lot easier.
She blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Sugar tits? "Okay I've been called a lot of things but that one's surprisingly new," she mused with a shrug. Yet there wasn't much time to stand around doing nothing. The thief was already on the move, using the emergency escape. Thinking fast, Yazmyn hurled her fist back, "Get out of the damn way!" She roared before she swung it forward, releasing a large torrent of flames at the wall of ice blocking their path. Vagrants and Operatives alike fell to either side, clutching at their heads to try to avoid the searing heat. The connection of ice and fire filled the compartment with steam rapidly, clouding everybody's vision and providing a certain someone with cover to pass through.
"Oi, 'Edgelord,'" Yazmyn voiced quietly as she elbowed him in the arm. "Go, cut him off. I'll take the high-ground."
With that and only that being said, Yazmyn followed the thief through the emergency escape latch... yet instead of carefully climbing out of it the female very literally dove into the window recklessly. She grit her teeth at the immediate wind resistance but managed to angle herself just right. With a quick release of flame from her feet, the girl launched herself up and above the train. Eyes, red as blood, found its target. A click. A whir. Her spear was in her hand, doused in flames. She pulled her arm back while still in the air and launched her weapon like a flaming javelin right at the Operative, aiming for the arm that held the briefcase.
Whirring down the aisle, Promise missed its mark and lodged itself in ice. One commuter yelped. So much for maintaining public confidence.
He was unsurprised, though disappointed nonetheless, when both his weapon and invitation to repent had been dodged, the latter with far less grace. Incomprehension folded the space between his brows, followed by mild impatience. Unbounded by the laws of the land, as well as of common decency, this fellow couldn't be much of a threat if his weapon of choice was his tongue. Amazingly, it proved effective as Asha lifted his other throwing ring, pointed to the circumference, and began to reassure him there was no need to fear being cut. "You're mistaken. I had them rounded off, so—"
And out he leapt, the scoundrel.
So did his heart, in primal horror, when the Huntress nearly burnt down their carriage, throwing flame above civilians once frozen in fear and melting free their screams. Palm to forehead, he lost his chance to reprimand her. She was lucky the steam shrouded her daredevil exit or he might've come close to a stroke.
Perhaps this was punishment for neglecting proper introductions.
Seizing the opportunity she'd frankensteined for him, he dashed forward, grabbing his fallen chakram along the way, confident the winds and dangers up top would outweigh the thief's head start. The neighboring car was a cargo box that was shipping, unbeknownst to him, gunpowder and ammunition. He scaled crates and barrels to swing wide a ceiling hatch, poking his head out and greeting property damage. Now he really needed her name. These repairs wouldn't bill themselves.
He clambered onto the roof and yanked the spear out. Running toward the end, hopping over the gap, then finally rejoining the pair, he closed the pincer with a spearhead hovering over the center of the blond man's chest.
"We have you surrounded, so drop what you took." A nod went to the battered arm, likely the woman's doing.
"And you, Ms. Huntress," he raised with a bite. "Forgive me if I was unclear earlier. The briefcase is our second priority, with passenger safety being our first." This was precisely why Vagrants underwent separate training programs.
As he faced off against their target, his back was turned to the tunnel that just now emerged over the scrolling horizon. Minutes would pass before the sky collapsed to barely fit an altar.
Post by Norris Laroche on Jan 6, 2020 22:02:59 GMT
Norris turned at the sound of something behind him, only to find a horrifying spear set ablaze flying towards him. With barely any time to react, he instinctively managed to move his body in a way to minimize the damage- though the spear still managed to scrape the arm that was carrying the briefcase. His sleeve was seared straight off and he was left with a grotesque and painful burn on his arm where it had passed. The blonde Operative’s face went pale as he clutched to the briefcase for dear life, realizing that this was no longer some charming game- his life itself was at stake here.
”W-what the hell is your problem?! You nearly severed my arm you wench!” he shouted in disbelief. No amount of hotness was enough to justify assault on this level- and of course his opponent had a Vel and a Vanta Weapon too. Taking a few steps backward, he whirled around only to find himself caught on the other side by Edgelord with a spearhead hovering mere inches from his chest.
His eyes widened as the man demanded he return what he took, the hand around the briefcase clenching. ”There’s no way I’m giving up. My story won’t end in a jail cell- I’m going to make my dreams come true!” he shouted in defiance, though at present it just seemed hopeless. That is, until he saw the tunnel head rapidly approaching them from behind Edgelord. Norris wanted to escape the situation no matter what, but he also didn’t want to watch two people die in front of him in such a grotesque manner.
”Tunnel incoming- duck!” he shouted a few seconds ahead of time as he flopped onto the ground, the overhead soon zooming past above them. By the time they reached the other side however, the two would notice that Norris had used the opportunity to try and crawl past Asha, managing to sneak just a few inches past him before springing to his feet and dashing away once more.
At this point he was up against a Chakram, a Spear, and fire powers- his little image bubbles and book weren’t going to be any match in a fight against all of that- especially when it was two on one. The only chance the Operative had of victory was using his nimbleness to escape and make his exit from this operation.
The moment her boots touched the metal roof of the mobile train Yazmyn felt it - friction and drag, all fighting against her in an attempt to push her body off of the vehicle rocketing along the Outlands. Her speedy ascent into the air likely had a lot to do with it too as it screwed with her balance. Her rapid descent was followed by the blonde Huntress immediately ducking low, lodging the claws of her Vanta arm deep into the metal surface of the train's roof in an attempt to keep herself from being thrown off like a ragdoll. Her head then rose and crimson eyes pointed forward towards the horizon, capturing Norris somewhere along the way. The damage was minimal, all things considered, though the fact that her weapon even hit where it did erected a click from the Huntress' tongue. She was aiming for his wrist, not his arm, after all. Training was afoot, as they said.
And yet that still didn't stop the small speck of a smirk from appearing on her sharp facial features. Her eyes were a little more narrow than usual as the wind was blowing right in her face, but the girl looked as smug as ever anyway, "Awww. Wench? Here I thought I was sugartits," Yazmyn spat with some amusement in her voice, clearly undeterred. It hadn't taken long for her unlikely Vagrant accomplice to enter the scene as well, brandishing her spear as he approached. She quirked a brow at his words, shrugging moments later. "I mean, to be fair you said the briefcase was our top priority. Nothing 'bout the civvies. Anyway not like I didn't have that under control. Don't get your panties in a twist!" The explanation came out of her mouth effortlessly, clearly showcasing her confidence in her own abilities as she slowly stood up straight, getting used to balancing herself on this mobile death trap she found herself on.
When the tunnel from afar was finally close at hand Yazmyn just groaned as she once again ducked low, pushing her now prone body against the roof for cover. She noted how the Operative had gone through the trouble of actually warning the two of them despite the situation he found himself in. This had her hum in thought a little before a short snort left her. Concern really isn't the trademark of an Operative.
Within several quick moments they were greeted by the light of the sun once more and Yazmyn was quick to her feet. Realizing that the Operative had skedaddled, she quickly darted along the roof of the train in an attempt to pursuit... that is, until several of Norris' colleagues decided to join them up top. She stopped dead in her tracks, body frozen in a fighting stance as she was suddenly surrounded by an Operative on either side of the train. A grin suddenly appeared on her face as she glanced towards Asha.
"I can handle these extras. Go do your job, Vagrant! I'm sure there are more inside!"
Based on how they brandished their blades, Yazmyn reckoned they didn't exactly appreciate her choice of words.
Perhaps it was the torrential roar that drowned out sensibility from his statement. "And this is the conclusion you came to?" With a free and emphatic hand, he swept toward the briefcase, at the train, to the outlands, tracing the ridiculousness. "If you don't stand down, then I can assure you that your 'dreams' will remain as such." Troubled youths, he reluctantly discovered, knew a single direction, and that was downard. The deeper they dug, the harder it was to climb out, until they one day mistook Hell for the sun.
Even the sun could be mistaken for Hell depending how hotly it beat down. Before he could reprimand the huntress for unprofessional language, his unfamiliarity with this railway proved clear.
Of course there was a tunnel. There had to be a tunnel, at the worst of times. Just his luck.
The mountainside merely prodded his periphery to force him flat against steel. Mortality counted down like a drum in his ear as came to grips with his nearness to death. Light returned sooner than he was prepared for, but with the spear as support, he rose. The huntress was already on the move, flying past him to chase down that two-time escapee. He turned to aid her, then stopped.
"Not before returning your weapon." He spun it halfway, blunt end forward, then drenched the first adversary in concrete. In their temporary blindness, Asha struck their left temple, knocked feet off balance plus sword from hand, then drove it bloodlessly through the scruff of their shirt. He staked them such that they were on the verge of slipping off, with nothing to grab onto besides blade. Another line item for the bill.
Assuming his partner made quick work of the other enemy, he held the spear for her to take. "Quickly." He broke into a run, eyes locked onto that shrinking silhouette beelining toward the engine.
Unclipping a chakram, he hurled it once more. The ring struggled against the wind but made steady pace toward the back of the thief's blond head.
