16493/Stick to the Shadows

Stick to the Shadows
Date of Scene:	20 August 2024
Location:	Some Alley in Queens
Synopsis:	The streets of New York are one evil creature less after Shiloh and Spawn get hold of them.
Cast of Characters:	Shiloh Foster, Spawn

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Shiloh Foster has posed:
Night time in Queens is a lot different than day time in Queens. Would Shiloh have actually admitted that to someone who was asking general inquiries? Likely not. She says too much and she might give away something about her that she likes to keep a secret. Baker by day, vigilante by night. Suppose it takes all types to keep the streets of New York safe these days. Regardless, she's out on one of her nightly patrols, dressed in black so the shadows accept her as a friend. Her throwing knives strapped to her thighs, swords strapped to her back, and daggers sheathed at her waist. She's never believed in guns - just not her thing.

So far she's stopped a couple of muggings fairly easily. Slow pickings it would seem. At least until someone slips into a nearby alley that piques her interest. Calculated steps carry her to the alley entrance, and then she's acrobating up into the fire escape that runs along side one of the buildings, trying to keep up with the one running through. Could be nothing, could be something as simple as a drug run. One never knows until the shadows break.

Spawn has posed:
Something has drawn the attention of worse than muggers and a black-suited Pimpernel recreationist. There's no sign of the Hellspawn in the flesh, only a crushing, terrible sense of doom that lays over the alley like a shroud. The bad feeling is worse closer to the middle, but "worse" in this case just means more oppressive. It's the kind of feeling only a particular mindset would want to go deeper into, while most would only do so out of desperation or morbid curiosity.

If anyone could see him while he was phased out of alignment with physical light, they might see Spawn clinging to a brick wall high off the ground. Higher even than the fire escape that Shiloh just acrobatically mounted. He clings to the wall effortlessly, hands and feet flat against the wall like a giant, creepy gekko. What, exactly, he's doing here probably isn't even known to him yet. He tends to follow signs and portents provided by the human elements around the city.

Shiloh Foster has posed:
We're not going to get into the specifics of what this person was planning on doing. The alley connects to another street on the other end and this street just happens to be a place where a few corner girls try to earn a few dollars selling themselves. This prick tries to get that service for free and not in a nice way either. He's just about grabbed onto his victim when he gets a throwing knife in the back of his shin causing him to cry out and turn around to look for where it came from.

"What the FUCK?!" Limping back into the alley a bit - which gives victim number one a chance to skedaddle away from THAT particular corner.

"You picked the wrong damn alley to walk down, you scummy son of a bitch. I 'ad ya clocked from Flushing..." Shiloh speaks, but it only comes from the shadows since she hasn't revealed herself yet.

"Was that a knife? Did you fucking throw a knife at me?! Who the fuck uses knives?!" Prick still trying to wrap his head around what just happened. Might take him a moment to realize he's in for a bad time.

Spawn has posed:
High above, confident that nobody's paying attention to him and mildly amused by the verbal exchange between the humans, Spawn slowly phases into sight. Angled straight up and down he crawls a bit closer to the ground, his blood-red cape somehow flowing straight up in spite of little or no wind blowing in the alley. If anyone was looking his way, all that could be made out is the glowing green eyes and maybe a glimpse of that cape like wet blood glistening in the night.

Shiloh Foster has posed:
"Go on. Pull the knife out. I didn't hit anything vital so you're not going to bleed to death..." Shiloh says this as she jumps from the fire escape and lands in a crouch on the ground of the alley. "Well. At least not by that..." She'll then reach up and unsheathe one of her swords from her back, letting the blade drag against the ground as she takes a few steps closer.

The guy laughs. "You're about as stupid as you are pretty... I can let that slide if you come a little closer and let me get a taste of that..." Words like this make Shiloh want to vomit... but she holds herself steady while the man pulls the knife out and throws it back at her. An easy thing for her to shift and catch between two fingers without even knicking her own skin.

"I don't like people like you. Ruining our streets. Both here and back home. Had a few who got names for themselves... and then they ended up disappearing under strange circumstances. Serial rapist like you shouldn't get a rap sheet. Just a quick send off to death's door..." She grins, giving her blade a spin and then ducks into a ready position. "Wanna dance, funny man?"

"Oh you'll be doin' a lot more then dancin' with me by the time we're through..." Of course, SHE hasn't seen the gun tucked in the back of his pants. That might bode unwell for her soon.

Spawn has posed:
The Hellspawn shuffles closer, side-stepping like a crab walking on hot sand so he can position himself directly above the center of the action. He's nothing if not a rapt spectator, now. If anyone had noticed him up there, they might note the total silence of his movement and the way his cape keeps itself up in the air, as if he was upright instead of upside down.

He's moved quite a bit lower too, now that Shiloh is on the ground and facing off against the mutual prey. At this point he's only as high up as she was, on that fire escape, but he's still clinging directly to the rough surface of the wall like a bug. The green eyes shift left and right, between the combatants, as the battle is joined.

Shiloh Foster has posed:
If Shiloh' noticed anything, she's not giving it away. Sometimes the vigilantes look out for one another, and a few times they need to get involved. Most times they don't. It's nice to just know you may have someone watching your back.

As the man charges at her, she quickly moves into a defense stance and with a few swings of her blade the rapist is stumbling just a bit. Not bleeding - she's likely just going to toy with him for a little. Like a spider with the fly. But his clothing is going to look a little worse for wear. "That's just a sample. You aren't leaving this alley alive so you know... and I have several people who will know precisely how to dispose of your body so no one knows what's happened here." Not that she's being cocky - well maybe a little - but she's also just trying to tell the truth.

"God I HATE bitches like you!" The man exclaims before pulling out his gun and firing a few shots at her. They all miss, but it does cause her to duck behind a nearby dumpster while grabbing another throwing knife from her thigh. Every so often peeking around the corner to maybe try and figure out what type of gun he has so she can calculate shots left. "Why do they always gotta have guns... no one has any class these days..."

Spawn has posed:
Without leaving his wall, the Hellspawn transmits a full-sensory hallucination into Shiloh's prey item. The man, but only the man, sees Spawn himself suddenly rise out of the pavement. The seven foot tall nightmare-made-flesh stands there, green eyes literally burning as they glare at the little bastard in the alley. The hallucinatory monster bursts into green flame and reaches out to grab the barrel of that gun...

Shiloh Foster has posed:
When no more shots are fired, and in fact, the man starts to scream as he sees that hallucination in his mind which causes him to drop the gun that he thinks some green flamed monster is about to take from him. "Take it! Just take it! Just don't hurt me!" Which leaves Shiloh being all the more confused when she looks back from around the dumpster to see the man freaking out at practically nothing.

"Of course, it has to be a psycho..." She mutters to herself before coming out from around the dumpster and walking down the alley with her blade up and poised to strike. She kicks the gun away as she reaches him and knees him to the ground. "Back to the pits what spawned you, scum!" And in a swift thrust, her blade pierces the man's chest even while he's still screaming about some green flamed monster.

"Alright. Time to call for backup... my one good deed done for the night."

Spawn has posed:
While Shiloh is busy dispatching the rapist, the Hellspawn does descend down his wall. This time very real, or at least as real as Hellfire-made-flesh can get, the monster takes up position behind the woman vigilante. His cape draws around him and seems to hug tight as he stands there, and the high collar leans in around his head, as if the monster was surrounded in a column of constantly flowing blood.

This time the hallucination is broadcast to Shiloh, auditory only. "Why do you need backup when the trash is already dead?" Even though the smooth basso voice is only in Shiloh's head, it might sound familiar. Maybe not, if you buy into the idea that context is everything when it comes to recognition.

Shiloh Foster has posed:
Shiloh turns around, sword at the ready, when she feels that presence behind her. Though looking at Spawn, and hearing that voice in her head, gives cause for a momentary pause. She swallows back a lump in her throat before sheathing the sword behind her back. "Because I can't rightly afford the cops to find this one dead in the alley, can I? Don't need them snooping around to the refuse being taken out when they couldn't bother to keep the streets much cleaner themselves." She answers, it's shaky, but she manages to say those words either way.

There might be a slight moment of wonder that the voice does sound a bit familiar, but it leaves her mind just as soon as it might have entered to tickle her brain for a moment. "...Who...what...sorry I..." Now she's lost the plot very much as everything seems to catch up with her. "Never seen the likes of you 'round here before. You new?"

Spawn has posed:
"I'm just back from Hell," that human-like voice echoes in Shiloh's mind while the monster towers over her in the alley like a statue. His only movement, now, is the constant flowing of the cape like a river of blood and the constant flicker of green flames licking around the edges of his eyes. "That happens every so often," he adds, without further explanation.

The tall thing leans forward to look past Shiloh at the dead man. "I can understand wanting to avoid prosecution. Maybe I'm spoiled. I like to make a mess out of them, and leave them as a warning to others."

Shiloh Foster has posed:
Shiloh blinks a few times. "Right. Well." Can she believe that? Of course she can. She's met so many different types in her life as a baker. Who's to say someone or something from Hell doesn't just pop up to say hello every so often. "Look if you want to take care of this and turn it into a bigger mess, that's on you. I can't take that chance. There's real consequences in it for us human folk." She says this before turning and looking around the man for a moment before feeling his pockets. Yes. Knife. That gets sheathed back into her thigh. "Still leaves me short one..." She mutters.

"Anyway. Up to you. I would surely love to leave him here as a warning. A sort of calling card. But I'm fucked if it gets back to me somehow. My entire other livlihood could be ripped out from under me. That's the truth of it all. And why I'm standing here talking to what could very well be a figment of my fucked up imagination is beyond me." There's a pause. "You got a name, Creature of Hell?"

Spawn has posed:
Finally the red cape withdraws as if on its own, and the monster steps forward and past Shiloh. "Spawn," that voice answers in Shiloh's head. "Hellspawn," comes a moment later, as the thing kneels down and reaches out with its right hand. The spike that juts forward from that bracer is inserted in the wound Shiloh already made, and then a surge of green fire flows down his arm. It probably isn't obvious that the forensic evidence, meaning any steel fragments from that sword were just vaporized at the same time that the chest wound was cauterized by exposure to that heat.

Next the monster repeats the procedure with the wound in the leg, and then just for good measure the giant thing uses his burning fist-spike to slash across each of the trails Shiloh left in the man when they had their first melee pass. It moves with such speed and precision that, by the time he's done, it looks like that burning blade of his was the only one that touched the victim's clothes or body... and that means it looks that way to the naked eye as well as to the eggheads with microscopes and chemical swabs who work for the police.

When he's done with that, Spawn rises back to his full height and turns to face Shiloh again. "You know you could use a pistol, as long as it isn't one you bought under your own name, right?"

Shiloh Foster has posed:
Shiloh turns and watches almost in awe as the creature begins to work on the corpse of the rapist, seeming to remove any and all trace that the man was downed by a regular sword. She stays that way watching him for even a longer moment after the creature returns to his normal height and faces her again. "Spawn. That's...not really an original name is it? Then again, I guess Hell is running out of names after several millenia of existence.." She chuckles at her own joke and then clears her throat gently.

"I don't use guns. At all. Never learned with them. Don't like them really. I think people who fight with guns lack class. It's messy and chaotic. Sword fighting is beautiful. Fluid. An art." Looking him up and down, her eyes narrow for a moment at him but then she shakes the thought away. "Well. Thanks for....whatever it is you did...how did you find me here anyway? Or did I take your prey from you?"

Spawn has posed:
Without giving an answer to the... insult? about his name, Spawn resumes staring down at Shiloh.

"You sent him to Hell, just like I would have," is answered with a sense of dark amusement. "I like to do it myself, but it was a pleasure to watch your work." There's a sense of something like a shrug in the hallucination, but that doesn't show in the physical form that stands there in the alley.

"I followed the bad intentions," is finally given to the woman's last question. "His, yours," the green eyes shift as if he was looking up without turning his head, but it's hard to tell whether he can see at all through the fire let alone where he's looking at any given moment. "You may go to Hell for what you've done here, but I won't be the one who sends you," he finally concludes.

Shiloh Foster has posed:
"Oh if THIS is what gets me sent to Hell... then so be it. This isn't my first kill. It won't be my last. And even before I started being a sword wielding vigilante, there are people in my life who have cursed me to Hell for things I've done long before." Shiloh says this and then gives a shrug of her shoulders. If Spawn remembers anything from his visit as Al to the bakery - this is NOT the gentle toned, happy go lucky baker the man met. There's something darker here. More vicious.

Besides. She lied about the neighborhood being...peaceful. This isn't peaceful.

"Anyway. Fortunately or not, I am not an all night vigilante. Unlike some, I can't spend all night keeping the streets clean. The visage of my daytime persona must awaken peacefully as it can just before sunrise." She looks herself over, as if counting in her head to make sure she has everything. "Something tells me, however, that we might meet again. So. Until that time..." And then she turns and begins to walk out of the alley just as easily as she had entered it. Unless he stops her for any reason.

Spawn has posed:
Rather than stop the black-clad woman, the Hellspawn fades out of view before he leaps at the wall and catches hold to climb the rest of the way swiftly up. There's more evil out in the night, and it's the kind he wants to take a bite out of.