5015/Slaying Shadows

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Slaying Shadows
Date of Scene: 26 July 2018
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Faith makes an acquaintance. The Shadow unravels yet another link of the smuggling ring, closing in on the final delivery point.
Cast of Characters: Shadow, Faith Lehane




Shadow has posed:
    When you've seen one cheap, run-down motel, you've seen them all - and you most likely wish you hadn't. But at least the room is dry, the bedsheets are mostly clean, and it beats sleeping out under the stars, if by a narrower margin than Faith would prefer, but when cash is running low you can literally not afford to be choosy.

    As she ponders this, her cellphone rings - which is odd enough, since there aren't many people who'd even know this number and the last time a telemarketer tried calling it was memorable enough that they wound up delisting her...

Faith Lehane has posed:
    It's the sort of dump where they claim not to allow smoking but no one will ever know or care whether Faith was smoking, the previous tenant, or the radiator. She's lounging back on the bed in a t-shirt, a leather jacket, a pair of too tight black jeans, booted feet just hanging off o the bed. Smoke curls form the cigarette currently lolling between her lips. There's a mostly empty bottle of whiskey nearby but thanks to Faith's Slayer metabolism she's not yet managed to end up drunk. she's pretty sure she hasn't, at last. Until a moment ago Faith hadn't expected to care if she did.

The phone slips out of Faith's pocket and she checks the number. Blocked. Shaking her head, the dark-haired Slayer slides a finger across the screen and lifts the phone to her ear. "Yeah? If this is my pizza order I'm getting it for free. Hear me?"

Shadow has posed:
    "... No, miss Lehane, this is not your... 'Pizza order'," The voice's dry, British accent somehow manages to express utter disdain for barbaric american fast food just with a pregnant pause and near-audible quotes before continuing.

    "The Council has received rumors of a vampire operating in the New York area, and directs you to investigate the matter. Our local agent on the ground can be found at..."

Faith Lehane has posed:
    "Oho. You're actually talking to me now, hm?" Faith does indeed interrupt. She sits up, cigarette still dangling from the orner of her mouth. Boots hit the floor with a soft thump which might just e audible over the phone line.

"Must be pretty serious. So what I need you to do is givemme a reason not to hang up." Faith put the phone on speaker and set it down beside the bed before reaching up and pulling the cigarette out of her mouth. She stretches slightly as she comes to her feet, t-shir sliding back into place on ehr slender form. No one looking at this girl would be too intimidated unless they're afraid of vageuly punkish clothes or the colour black. But looks are deceiving. Especially in the case of Slayers.

Faith quickly gathers up her stuff while she listens. It's time to get out of here whether or not she runs the Council's errands. Just in case.

Shadow has posed:
    There is another pause on the line. It goes on for quite a bit before the same dry voice responds, in a tone that sounds like they just swallowed a lemon. "... The Council is willing to offer to deposit five thousand dollars into a bank account of your choosing in exchange for your cooperation in this matter."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"That would be just about enough to get my bike looked at. Look, I don't like bloodsuckers any more than the rest of you., so I guess I can play nice just this once..." Faith rolls her eyes at the room as she lifts the cigarette to her lips again to take a drag. Her voice, however, remains deceptively sweet. She's basically broke, for all of her posturing. "I guess if you can make it ten thousand and provide a few weapons for the purpose I could be bothered to meet up with your guy and see about taking this asshole down." She lets that settle in for a moment. "But only just. You guys really need to stop lowballing your offers, you know? It's just not professional. I operate a respectable business here." Yeah. Right.

Shadow has posed:
    Another pause. "... Eight thousand, and we will cover /reasonable/ travel and armament expenses, as well as an introduction to a reliable and discreet weaponsmith in the New York area."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"...Fine." Faith couldn't really beat the offer. If the watchers knew how close she was pushing the eedge of homelessness they would probably bea a lot less generous. She finished ocllecting the last ofh er things into her saddle bag and extingusished the cigarette against the beat up night stand beside the bed. She'd paid in cash and the room was up in an hour. Their fualt ofr not requiring a credit card.

"Cheer up. We can work together again. Just like old times, right?" Faith just laughed as she strutted her way out of the motel and over toward the classic motorcycle she kept parked nearby. "Just give me the address and let's get this show on the road before I think of something more interesting I could be doing."

Shadow has posed:
    The voice on the other end of the line sounds like he might have tried 'cheer' once long ago in a moment of youthful stupidity and decided he didn't like it as he rattles off a name and an address, as well as a code phrase to identify herself by. "... Your cooperation, promptness and discretion in this matter will be appreciated, Miss Lehane."

Click.

    Her motorcycle is standing where she left it last night, and there's probably enough gas left in the tank to get to the Big Apple...

Faith Lehane has posed:
    Faith starts the bike up and settles in, reveling in the feeling of the motor humming beneath her. She's ready to hit the road and head for NYC... Her thoughts are interrupted by the rumbling of a neglected belly. Faith mentally revising her itinerary: Step one - find a drive thru that's still open tonight. THEN step two - meet up with a Watcher. So what if they have to wait a little bit?

With that thought on her mind, Faith urges the bike onto the road. New York is only a couple hours a way and since when had a lack of fuel stopped anyone? ...Probably best not to answer that question.

Shadow has posed:
    Roadside diners are, fortunately, a thing. Less fortunately, so are slightly inebriated bikers who think a girl out on her own this late at night is an invitation to offer a 'fun time'.

    ... Of course, Faith's definition of a 'fun time' turns out to be a little different from what they probably had in mind, but she's sure that the diner is insured against property damage, no one /important/ got hurt, and the lead biker's wallet contained a useful amount of spending cash that should see her sorted for gas and food money for the rest of the trip...

Faith Lehane has posed:
    A few burgers and a quick brawl alter Faith is a couple hundred dollars richer and her gas tank is full. She'd been nicer to the bikers than she normally would've been - the only things she left broken were their pride. She did stop and slash some tires on the way out just in case someone decided to follow. And now all she had to do was follow the horizon and she'd end up in the city. Then she'd find out what was so urgent that the Council ws crazy enough to call her.

Shadow has posed:
    Time becomes an oddly malleable thing when you're on the road. It's not long at all before the skyline of the Big Apple looms before her and it's time to hit the off-ramp. Her Watcher contact is one The Hon. Professor Grant Hughes, former mythology professor at MIT, nowadays an antiquarian in Brooklyn. Meanwhile, the contact for weaponry is a Darren Hayes, a legitimate and licensed weaponsmith that offers certain off-the-books services to people who know the right thing to say and have been introduced. Of course the Council would probably prefer she contact the Watcher first...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith is in town earlier than she'd have expected. Than the Council would have expected, for that matter. There were laws broken. If she were traveling during the day her rapid approach to the city would have verged on impossible and she would most likely be dealing with a major fine or in a hospital somewhere trying to convince the nurses that broken ribs really are "only a flesh wound". As it is, the Slayer has a decision to make. An impartial observer would conclude that the devision was as good as made before she ever climbed astride her Kawasaki ZX-11 Ninja.

The Slayer arrives at the workplace of one Darren Hayes not long after reaching the city, the motorcycle rumbling like a jungle cat's purr as it settles into its spot outside. Faith hadn't bothered wit ha helmet, of course. Despite the fact she has one on her bike in plain sight of anyone who cares to look. Right now, however, she is studying the building in question with a faint frown, brows furrowed slightly as she approacheswith a slow and purposeful stride.

Leather, motorcycles, and arming swords. There is no way this could possibly go wrong.

Shadow has posed:
    There are certain stereotypes about the kind of people who own a weapons shop. Tattoos, piercings, bare arms, maybe some jewelry in skull motifs and a black shirt advertising some death metal band, the works.

    Darren has, in fact, none of these things. What he /does/ have are a pair of spectacles perched on his nose with a jeweler's loupe mounted on the side, and the kind of slender, deft fingers you're most likely to see on a pianist.

    Once Faith establishes her bona fides with the code phrase, she's led into and past the testing range in the basement and through a door that just says 'maintenance' where a false wall splits open to reveal a well-stocked rack of more... esoteric... weapons. Pistol crossbows with lathed hardwood bolts, several swords and daggers with alloyed silver or that hammered look that even Faith has learned to recognize as cold-forged ironwork, and even a few stakes.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"This is amazing," Faith gushes. "I could definitely see myself covered in blood carrying this one. I mean-" The woman pauses, a smile on her lips as she looks up. "-Not mine, of course. Just in general. Some of the silver inlay is fabulous. Really intricate. You've been doing this a long time? Lot of studying...?"

Though the cavalier manner of the Slayer might suggest she is not taking any of this seriously she is, in fact, using the opportunity to get the measure of the person sharing the room. His movement, his responses. How familiar he is with the use of his weapons, which pieces he favours. She's good at taking in a huge amount information all ato once, even if her manner suggests otherwise.

"You're not quite what I expected. Thanks for seeing me like this, Dennis." Faith is more the stereotypical weapons shop owner. Her shirt tonight isn't advertising a Death Metal band, but she manages to fit every other item on the checklist. even if the skull is mounted on a crucifix. "I'm looking at --- several things, actually. These crossbows. Do you have somewhere I can shoot them, test the balance...?"

Shadow has posed:
    "Oh, only the crossbows and stakes are my own work," Darren admits, not bothering to correct Faith on his name. "The metalwork's done by a blacksmith I know -- the kind of power usage and heat output from an actual forge is kind of hard to cover up, but a wood lathe is a perfectly reasonable piece of equipment for me to have around for custom sword hilts or quality gun stocks..."

    He takes one of the pistol crossbows off the rack as well as a case of five bolts. "You can use the firing range we just came through. I'm afraid the range on these is a bit less than regular bolts; even with the best hardwood I could find they just don't have the mass to stay in a stable flight for long." He shrugs, partly in apology, partly in an acknowledgement that there's only so much the laws of physics and aerodynamics will let you do.

    He looks Faith's hands over with an expert's eye, then picks up what looks like a pistol grip made of ballistic gel on a stick. "Could you grip this for a moment, as strongly as you'd hold a weapon?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Okay... Sure, why not?" Faith is eyeing the the ballistic gel somewhat dubiously but the Slayer reaches out and takes the offered grip, studying it. "So, just as hard as I'd hold my crossbow...?" She has a very strong grip and, let's face it, Faith is not fond of relinquishing her weapons. The results of the test are pretty impressive as as a result.

"As long as the bolt will penetrate a perosn's sternum the shorter range probably isn't a big deal. There's something about following thing sback to their lairs that means you tend to be kind of enclosed spaces, you know?" A beat. "What kind of timber are the stakes made from anyway? I always prefer wood that can give a good pounding."

Shadow has posed:
    "Pecan, in fact," Darren replies with just a hint of professional pride as he takes the gel imprint and makes some notations on a notebook. "One of the hardest types of wood in existence. I've got arrangements with a grove in southern Texas. None of the wood's younger than thirty years at the minimum. Hickory's a bit harder, but it's much more susceptible to decay, whereas these.. Well, as long as you clean them after work and keep them somewhere dry, sixty years from now your grandkids could still use them."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"I mean... WOw. That's actually- pecan? Okay." Faith is nodding, but despite the fact she clearly cares about stakes and what they are best made from her gaze has found a different object for her to lust after. She walks toward one of the silver inlaid swords with slow steps. Gloved hands reach out to take it from the rack without even awaiting permission to touch the weapon.

"Okay. So, I need a crossbow, three of those stakes, a couple of the good knives, and this sword right here." The most expensive one, more than likely. Faith knows her weapons, at least. She handles them with a reverence which completely belies her overall attitude. "Definitely. You can bill the Council for all of it."

Shadow has posed:
    Darren cracks a smile that's somehow out of place on his otherwise unassuming features. "Gladly. You can take that one with you right now, come back the day after tomorrow and I'll have the other fitted with a custom grip and you can trade it in..."

    He moves over to one of the benches and pulls out a suitcase. As he cracks it open, Faith can see the interior is full of interlocking segments of padding material, which he starts removing piece by piece until there are niches shaped just right for the weapons she's purchased. "I figure this will be a little less ostentatious than walking out of here with all of that strapped to your belt and back..."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"It wouldn't be the first time my saddle bags were full of weapons but that's pretty slick, so it's definitely coming with me. You are a fucking god, Darren. I could kiss you. But you know, not in a creepy way." Faith is smiling too, and she'll happily load the weapons she's asked for into the various crevices laid into the case. She's on the verge of starting to whistle as she does.

"You know, I thought you were going to be a total downer but you're actually pretty cool. For a guy who owns a lathe, I mean. There are degrees of cool. You're below room temperature for sure." Once she's loaded everything Faith takes a deep breath and prepares to just stroll out of the shop.

The next problem is mounting the case on the sports bike outside, but faith has never been one to let planning ahead get in the way of a good score.

Shadow has posed:
    That just leaves lodgings. Fortunately, there are quite a few places in New York that'll take cash and a no-questions-asked policy as long as the person paying doesn't have any actual bloodstains on her...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith even knows a few that will overlook the blood stains for a twenty. Flush with her newfound wealth Faith ultimately decides on a drab multi-story building run by an overweight man in a stained tank top who considers payment in cash proper identification. She parks her bike outside and removes the main fuse entirely, shoving it into one of her bags. Afterward, she sets her u-locks high on the body of the bike, then uses a length of cable to attach the bike to a nearby street lamp. The result isn't pretty, but let's face it - a $4,000 motorcycle is the first thing getting lifted off this street if someone happens to drive by. In this case, they'll need more than bolt cutters to get it free, and even then they'd best have brought a truck.

With this done Faith is happy to pick up several hundred pounds of bags and simply carry them inside like she's packed light. Just ignore the peeling paint and any roaches. This is going to be home for a few nights, after all. She might as well pretend it's comfortable.

Shadow has posed:
    Faith is woken bright and early the next morning by a voicemail chirping on her phone. "Miss Lehane, judging by the invoice we received you have reached New York. Congratulations on your promptness. Professor Hughes will be waiting to meet with you at his shop to brief you with what details he's been able to determine." Followed by a click as the message ends.

Faith Lehane has posed:
Groaning, Faith rolls over in her place on the bed and ends up hitting the floor with a soft thump. She peels open one eye and stares up at the ceiling past wild brunette tresses. "Motherfuckers. Don't they know Slayers are nocturnal or some shit?" Eventually, the Slayer climbs to her feet and makes her way to the nearby nightstand. She rummages through one of her bags for her flask while squinting at the brightness of the sun peeking past the blinds set over the apartment window. As she sips from her flask Faith contemplates the message she was left. She hadn't really though the Council was stupid enough to expect her the night before but she could have hoped.

Plenty of grumbling accompanies the Slayer's decision to climb to her feet, ascertain the dubious quality of the water in the shower, shrug into a fres ht-shirt and jeans, and finally make her way toward the Hughes' shop. The only thing between Faith and her obligations now is the rumbling of her stomach. It's this that finds her ordering an entire sack of cheese burgers from the drive thru of a nearby Big Belly Burger.

Shadow has posed:
    Once she meets with The Right. Hon. Prof. Hughes, Faith is thankful for her decision to get something to eat first; apparently he still thinks fondly of his lecturing days and sees this as an opportunity to relive them. But his information does seem solid, describing a number of attacks on the docks during the night time, with surviving witnesses talking about something that moved without being seen, stronger than any human had a right to be.

    Of course, with the number of so-called 'capes' in the tri-state area there's always a chance of a misidentification but it doesn't seem to fit any known cape's MO (and most of them make a point of letting people know who they are), and Batman tends to restrict himself to Gotham, so...

    More persuasive is a number of old newspaper articles - old enough, in fact, that newspaper articles were all that existed at the time, of the exact same MO over sixty years ago. Of course, that leaves a sizeable gap, but older vampires have the ability to sleep away the decades in hidden tombs before re-emerging after they've been forgotten, so it's a possibility -- and if it is, well...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith yawns periodiclaly and makes a point of rolling her eyes at some of the more bombastic speeches being made but, despite all appearances, she is actually paying attention to every wor.d None of this stops her from cramming several thousand calories of cheeseburgers into her mouth while she listens. Eventually, Faith is left to nod her head a couple of times.

"Okay, so I find this vampire stalking around the docks and shit, put a stake through their heart, pop back here and get fucking paid. I'll wrap this one pretty quick. Distinguishing factors for the villains or anything like that...?"

Faith studies the Right Honorable Professor Hughes from top to bottom with a discerning gaze, her blue eyes narrowed slightly as they cast over him. She's armed to the teeth at the moment, even if she had to leave the pistol crossbow and sword outside. The knives and stakes make up for it, adding a weight to her steps that the Watcher would recognize as the implicit threat of death. She doesn't threaten the man, at least.

The Slayer finishes her last burger, wipes her fingers on the wrapper, then turns her attention to the newspaper articles. Hands clad in fingerless gloves inspect the work in care, somehow kept fairly clean despite the massive quantity of food which just passed through them. "It definitely looks like an Elder just reemerged. Buffy's busy with the Hellmouth, right? It's my lucky day, I guess. Just have my money ready, alright?" She pauses for a second. "And do you have anything to drink? I have to drink before I read this much."

Shadow has posed:
    The Professor does an admirable job of pretending he isn't irked by Faith's disrespectful behaviour, but there's a little twitch in his cheek that gives him away. "Apparently, it keeps its facial features hidden aside from its eyes. It also seems to enjoy preying on the fear of its victims; some of the survivors were nearly incoherent, gibbering about shadows moving of their own accord," he replies. "Another common characteristic in Elders; toying with their prey and terrifying the common people into surrendering without a fight. Of course, it would be well aware that if it makes too obvious a threat of itself it'll attract the attention of one or more of New York's many costumed heroes..."

    He sniffs. "Of course, the greater danger there is if it's cunning enough to deliberately draw one of them out to turn them. If that's the case, it may be slowly building enough of an disposable army to subdue one. I'd rather not find out what a vampire would do with, for instance, the speed powers of the Flash..."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"If I were as fast as the Flash and a vampire I'd feed in, like, Mexico so no one could track my patterns. Between that and the, you know, badass superpowers I'd be pretty much invincible," Faith observes, shaking her head slowly. "Good news is that they're not doing that, so they either haven't taken the Flash down yet or they're stupid. Either way, it sounds like pretty good odds." The Slayer takes a deep breath, then balls her empty bag up in one hand and tosses it over her shoulder toward the Professor's waste receptable. "There haven't been any crazy prophecies or anything right? I hate those. I just want a goold old-fashioned fight with a good old-fashioned monster, you know? Maybe go dancing afterward... Enjoy the city... So let's go ahead and get this over with."

Shadow has posed:
    And there's the docks. Not much too look at, especially this late at night. About the only people still out and about at this ungodly hour are people working triple overtime moving stuff that needs to be on the shelves early tomorrow morning, people moving cargo that doesn't bear public scrutiny... And, of course, vampires and Slayers.

    Of course, the docks area is a bit large for one Slayer to patrol on her own, but Hughes had at least been helpful enough to provide an approximate map of the most recent attacks to help Faith narrow down her search area.

    Traffic on the streets this late is light; mostly garbage trucks, a few very late partygoers returning to their homes and the occasional cab driver trying to make his quota...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith might be considered by many people to be a terrible human being - and justifiably so in some cases- but there are certain things at which even her brand of undesirable excels. One of them is hunting. She doesn't approach the docks like a single Slayer on patrol. That wouldn't accomplish anything except wasting her time. She's someone looking for a trail the way you'd track a bounty. A bounty with supernatural powers, of course.

The Slayer has been searching the area around the attacks for some idea of what's going on. There aren't many people forh er to talk to but even their absence is a clue. People are scared, and they tend to instinctively home in on the source of danger. The first step to finding a monster is to be where other people aren't. It does help that Faith is a slender young woman in tight clothes who might very well be three quarters drun kby this stage of the night. And isn't blonde. Vampires are justifiably wary of young blondes in the New York area by this juncture. Faith is still a wild card.

Shadow has posed:
    ... And actually, that's odd. Normally, an active vampire generates a certain amount of... skittishness and unrest from people. Even if they don't consciously know what's going on or that people are disappearing, the 'herd' unconsciously feels that something is wrong and they're not the apex predator in the are anymore. That doesn't seem to be the case here, at least not with civilians. Even the streetwalkers seem less than concerned...

    As she approaches the dock area, though, that starts to change. Right near where the professor's maps indicated this vampire likes to hunt, a number of very anxious-looking people are accompanying a pair of trucks into a warehouse and looking around nervously as if they're expecting an ambush any moment...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Which, truthfully, is weird again. Vampires don't normally hunt packs of people. Their advantages are stealth and surprise. Even a small handful of humans can tip the balance if you're hunting alone... Which this Elder appears to be doing judging by the size of their stomping grounds. Which means... "What are they afraid of?"

Faith asks this question in a whisper as she sets up not too far from where the men are clustered near their trucks with the high beams on, illuminating the docks in patches of uneven shadows. It also means they're not likely to see a slender girl stroll up nearby and casualy produce a crossbow from a pocket and load it before stowing the weapon once more. She also checks for afew of her favourite knives and settles, denim jacket and all, against a shipping container to wait with a flask in hand.

Always a flask. It's mandatory for these sorts of operations, really.

Shadow has posed:
    ... Faith has never put much stock into what Buffy irreverently refers to as the 'Slayer Sense' even though she knows it's real. Which may be one of the reasons it takes her so long this time to notice that she's not the only person observing this group -- it never gave a twitch. But up on the rafters, there's a shadow that's a little deeper than you'd get from just the absence of light, and even as she focuses on it, it moves in a way that doesn't correspond with any source that she can see.

    Whatever it is, it's here... And it's hunting.

Faith Lehane has posed:
It isn't quite that Faith doesn't put stock in the Slayer 'sense'. It's more that she treats it like an instinct, a sixth sense that she can rely on rather than specifically cultivating or studying it. Like a predatory animal stalking prey she knows there's something here. But the specifics are elusive. She's honing on the kill and not her surroundings. Maybe if Fiath had stayed in Slayer school she'd have more respect for that particular trick. Then again, her way has its own benefits. The first being a lack of hesitation.

Faith notices th shadow and she moves, already reaching for her crossbow as she takes off into the darkness. Shescents the air, noting the fear and anxiety on the clustered men nearby. SHe's looking for something more distincitve, however. Vampires can't be picked out from regular people this way but this thing she's hunting has to have its own unique scent.

By this point, Faith is pretty sure it's not actually a vampire. But demons come in all shapes and sizes and, for all of Faith's faults, she's actually against leaving random humans to be devoured. If grudgingly so. "At least I'm getting paid this time," Faith mutters.

Shadow has posed:
    The shadow is likewise moving, and now that Faith is focusing on it, she is getting /something/ from her senses -- definitely not an vampire; if it were the kind of Elder the professor implied, at this short range her senses should be all but /screaming/ at her, either to rend it limb from limb or to run away, but instead all she gets is a faint twinge of watchfulness as it moves into position...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith is usually all about going for the throat. There's a revelry in taking a kill that is more potent than any drug she's experimented with over the years. But this feels - wrong. For one thing, she's not sensing nearly enough aggression. It's hard to tell what this thing is, but she'd almost wager it's not a demon. Which runs ocunter to the rest of the evidence so far. So Faith goes for the only solution that comes immediately to mind.

"You! What the fuck are you doing? Honestly, normally I wouldn't care, these guys look like lowlifes but, I mean..." Faith shakes her head once. "Someone was offering me a lot of money to come out here and slay a demon stalking people out here. You wouldn't happen to know any would you?" Faith pithces her voice to keep it from carrying /too/ far, but it's a near thing. She would almost seem unmenacing if not for the crossbow she's just kind of waving around at this point.

Shadow has posed:
... Well, that's another odd thing. Generally speaking vampires and most demons that Faith has encountered tend to scoff at 'mortal' weapons like firearms. Their first reaction to being jumped out at by someone shouting at them definitely doesn't tend to be to draw what looks like a very well made and maintained Desert Eagle at them.

    From up closer, the figure doesn't look very demonic at all, frankly. Tall, certainly, and the Fifties probably want that bulky trenchcoat and opera cape getup back, but he makes it work. A scarf covers the lower half of his face, and that black slouch hat shrouds most of the rest so that all you see is the eyes, which are currently glaring at Faith more in annoyance than surprise...

    ... Of course, Faith doesn't have much time to think about this, because from the ground she certainly hears someone shout "There he is! Waste 'im!" and the next thing she knows at least three of the people who were carrying crates have unceremoniously dropped their loads and pulled out submachine guns, which they're now using to hose down the walkway Faith and the other are standing on...

Faith Lehane has posed:
"...That escalated quickly." Faith is already sprinting down the walkway now, figuring that the figure beisde her has their own idea for how to deal with a rain of bullets. The ear drum shattering scream of automatic weapons fire echoes all around Faith, sparks skittering off of the ground and dust thrown into the air as concrete is chewed apart alongside chunks of splintering cargo container.

"I get it. You're one of those cap types they keep talking about in New York, right?" From whence Faith got her ability to banter breathlessly while crouching behind nominally bulletproof object as bullets are being fire no one will ever know. There's a brief lull in the weapons fire in which the Slayer manages to fire a bolt at one of the men. She's rewarded with a distinctly unmasculine yelp of pain.

Shadow has posed:
    Discussions will have to wait, because the Shadow moved in the exact opposite direction, forcing the goons below to split their fire even as the figure blurs out of visibility, guns barking - but rather than firing at the men, the shots shatter the floodlight, causing it to explode in a fountain of eye-searing sparks before dropping the entire warehouse into darkness.

    One of the thugs goes down with a wooden crossbow bolt through his shoulder, but two others open fire on Faith's cover. Luckily, this crate seems pretty solid but getting pinned down probably isn't the wisest course of action...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith's experiencei sn't in fighting things that use guns. She's having to improvise. Still, when the spotlight goes out she sees her chance. The Shadow is drawing their attention with her blurred figure and the glass shattering everywhere. Even Faith is a bit mesmerised... Bt it doesnt' stop her breaking cover.

The moment the men are more focused on the Shadow than Faith she breaks into a sprint. Faith dives for the next cargo container to catch any stray fire. Then she shoves the entire corrugated steel shipping drum at them. It creaks and groans, loud enough for people to look up before it slides across dock twoard the men, threatening to knock several about like bowling balls as Faith lets out a grunt from both exertion and triumph. All she needs is a split second to close to melee distance without being gunned down...

Shadow has posed:
    One of the thugs is stupid enough to try shooting at the drum as it rolls ponderously towards him, but the others are wise enough to scatter out of the way -- and across from her, Faith can see a rippling shadow leap off the walkway, blurring into visibility just long enough to be seen as he lands in the middle of the largest cluster of armed men before vanishing again - aside from the blurry fist that connects to a jaw and knocks one of them down.

    The others turn, guns at the ready, but seem hesitant to open fire when they're not sure they won't hit their own...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Shooting at a steel drum doesn't tend to deter it from moving. It does, however, send bullets ricocheting in all directions. The man gets hit by the drum and knocked to the ground, though fortunately it has enough momentum thati keeps going rather than simply leaving him pinned.

The Shadow lands among the men and the Slayer follows. There's no elegance here,. She literally throws the first of them into two others nad follows it up by lunging with surprising alacrity , kicking people who try to get up while throwing heavy punches. Clearly this is no ordinary young woman, picking up grown men like they are scarecrows and using them for makeshift clubs. She's breathing heavily, but at least the shooting has stopped. Broken bones will be their reward.

Shadow has posed:
    The ensuing fight is best described as profoundly unfair; while some of the thugs that are quicker on the uptake managed to drop their guns and pull out switchblades, the best that can be said of their skill level is that they're probably mostly competent for unenhanced mortals. Faith is reasonably certain she could probably have taken at least two of them /without/ Slayer strength and speed... Let alone the fact that her ally apparently can't even be seen until just before another thug takes a gloved fist to the face.

    Of course, she can't see him either, but given the way a single uppercut hits hard enough to lift what looks like a 220-pound bruiser clean off the ground and two meters back, the Shadow isn't restrained to human-level strength either...

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Oh, come the fuck on. If you're going to pull knives at least know how to use them. This is just sad." Faith puts the first guy on the ground with an Aikido throw which would profoundly dangerous if the switch blade wielder hadn't learned his knife wrok form watching movies. She's just not taking the m seriously. A simple kick puts the second into a wall with a loud thump.

The third person now stands opposite Faith, nervously watching the Slayer as heturns toward her. "Look, I'll give you a few pointers. You should hold the knife more like this." She mimes the gesture and the man follows, though the blade clatters in his hand. Cheap knife. "Extend your wrist. Right. You're getting it. Good. Now I don't feel as bad." She wavers slightly in her stance. The guy watches dumbly and then takes a punch to the jaw hard enough to break it. His head whips around and his knife hits the ground and rolls away just before he follows uit.

Which leaves Faith to look for the Shadow...

Shadow has posed:
    As it happens, the Shadow is standing fully visible in the middle of a ring of groaning and unconscious goons -- Less of them, she is pleased to note, than her own 'score' if one were to count the one that got run over by a steel drum earlier -- and regarding her what seems like vaguely interested curiosity. From up close and without the distracting gunfire, he seems practically mundane -- A combination black greatcoat and opera cloak that was probably the height of imposing fashion fifty years ago, a likewise black slouch hat that somehow kept its position despite the recent acrobatics, and a red scarf covering the lower half of their face.

    Of course, Faith has gone toe to toe and face to face with actual demons as well as Principal Snyder, so she's a little harder to impress than your average civilian.

    "... Impressive work," The Shadow comments with a nod.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"...Nice hat," Faith replies, tilting her head slightly as she does. She is looking over the fallen men with a certain amount of disdain and takes a deep breath as she orients herslef to face the Shadow properly. Indeed, after all the demon hunting of previous years Faith's repsonse to the Shadow is less one of abject fear and more of open curiosity. It isn't to say that he isn't intimidating - just that suicidal bravery is in the job description.

"You're not a vampire, are you? Fucking typical. You know, my job doesn't include finding random people here. Demon? No?" Faith rolls her eyes and then tkaes a deep breath. "Easy payday, at least." She seems content to grumble to herself for a second before adding. "Nice work on your end too. The disappearing thing is kind of handy. You really freaked those guys out, huh?"

Shadow has posed:
    "It's what I do," the Shadow replies to Faith's question with a sound that's /probably/ an amused chuckle, then raises an eyebrow. "I take it you hunt vampires?" they ask. "I admit, it wouldn't be the first time someone came up with that theory..."

    The Shadow trails off, walking over to one of the crates, taking hold of the lid and ripping it off with a splintering sound that a normal mortal would have needed a crowbar for. "... Ah, good. My source was telling the truth." They comment as they inspect the contents before turning back to faith. "Why were you looking around here specifically, if I may ask?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
"There were a bunch of criminals in the area gibbering about some kind of monster that stalks the night using fear to remove opposition, which fits the MO of an elder vampire if you presume those who are actually attacked tend to disappear," Faith replies in a slow, fixed way. "So I took a map and graphed the most common incidences versus the local population level and once I got close to the docks I asked some of the local drunks around to see where people were avoiding. A bit more searching brought me right here."

Faith, for all her faults, actually knows how to track someone. "Someone thought you were a vampire and paid me pretty well to take care of it. I can tell them that problem's solved and collect my check, we're pretty much good because you're clearly not some kind of demon and..." She shrugs. "What *are* you? Just, you know. For curiosity's sake, let's say."

The Slayer watches as the shipment is raided with a distinct lack of caring. She does take one of the fallen goons' knives. Why? It isn't clear. they're pretty terrible knives.

Shadow has posed:
    "I am known as the Shadow," comes the response as the Shadow reaches into the crate and gently lifts out... Well. Faith may generally have slept through most of the Watchers' attempts at education, but she /was/ smart enough to learn to recognize what occult artifacts look like -- old, dusty, and looking like it's intended to be covered in blood or other unsavoury fluids.

    "I've been tracking an artifact smuggling ring for a while now," they explain. "This is the central cell of the ring that's operating out of the docks here; from what I've been able to get out of the others they use a legitimate antiquarian as their cover for moving their more esoteric goods, but so far none of them could give me the actual name..."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"I recognize the design of that one. I have no idea what it's for though. I don't think that was in an yof those books I didn't read, but..." Faith tilts her head slightly as she studies the object in question. She learned more than might be expected, though a lot of it was on her own time. Her teachers fell down on the job just as much as Faith did, in the end. It didn't mean she wasn't still interested.

"I noticed there was a lot of traffic lately in osme other circles. I busted a couple of demons looking for something new. Might have to do with your smugglers?" It's only half a question. Faith studies the artifact carefully, lips lightly pursed. "I'd tell you what it *looks* like but we still seem to be working with a PG rating."

Shadow has posed:
    A shrug, as the Shadow takes out what looks like a perfectly mundane cell phone, then uses its camera to take photos of some of the artifacts. "I have an agent that should be able to tell me what these are likely for. In the meantime, perhaps one of these will be able to give me the name of their antiquarian..."

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith advances on the man she'd been teaching how to hold a knife. "That sounds like a plan," shagrees. The woman takes a deep breath, slowly. "I'm starting to wonder myself." She shifts her weight slightly and tilts her head slightly to the left while she considers this for a moment. "Here's hoping one of them actually knows something. For their sake."

Shadow has posed:
    The Shadow raises an eyebrow, but nods, striding over to one of the still conscious thugs currently groaning on the ground before picking him up by the scruff of his suit, lifting him up effortlessly with one arm and slamming him bodily against the wall. "Hello, Marko," they address the stunned man. "Did you really think you could smuggle this filth across my territory and get away with it? That I wouldn't /know/ ?" The man whimpers, head twitching as if he'd like to look away from those blazing blue eyes staring into his face from way too close, but is unable to turn his head. "Your colleagues all agreed that you were your dealer's main contact. TELL ME."

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith was about to start talking to the poor man she'd apparently designted as her favourite target when The Shadow began on their own target. She looked up and arched a brow. "You might have gotten lucky," she whispers to the man she's holding by the collar, who nods in emphatic agreement before falling silent to join in watching. His safety rides on it, after all.

Shadow has posed:
    Marko definitely doesn't feel terribly lucky, judging by the whimpering noises. Unsurprisingly, it isn't long before he breaks. "I--I don't know his real name! Everyone just calls him the Professor! He's got some kind of connections, people who cross him wind up vanishing!"

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Right. That's what I was afraid of," Faith replies to this news with a groan. "Damn it. You? I don't need you anymore." She flicks the man she's holding on the head and he lurches before being dropped into the pile of insensate smugglers. "Awesome. Professor, huh? It's always a Professor." There's more colourful language that follows as Faith apparently psyches herself up to go do... Something.

Shadow has posed:
    "Someone you know?" The Shadow inquires, looking from Marko to Faith.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Starting to think it might be," Faith responds with a shake of her head. "I'm going to go find out right fucking now. You can tag along if you want to watch me kick the shit out of the dude who sent me after you. I mean... After I get confirmation on my check - one second."

Faith draws out a cellphone and dials quickly. She affects her usual lazy drawl for notifying someone when she's being al ittle shit. "Right, so. I got eyes on your vampire. They're moving like a crazy, about to take down some guys on the docks. I can drop them right now but you need to make that bank transfer for me before I make the shot." A beat. "I'd give you about two minutes."

Shadow has posed:
    The Shadow's eyebrows - pretty much the only thing visible above that scarf - all but vanish into the shadow of their hat as they knock Marko unconscious with a perfunctory punch, then stands back, clearly waiting for Faith to do what she does.

    The Council representative sounds even more Britishly peeved than his usual oh-dear-I-have-to-talk-with-the-brat-again voice. "*Miss* Lehane, this is highly irregular. Do you seriously expect the Council to believe you'd pause in the middle of your work to check for payment?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Considering your opinion of me in general? Yeah, I'd expect you to believe it. I trust you about as far as I can throw you and I need to go get a hotel room after this, so I'm closing loose ends. You have my account number. I'll wait." Faith lowers the phone and rolls her eyes. She glances upward at the sky above her. She's obviously losing her patience quickly. If she ever had any."

Shadow has posed:
    Mutter, mutter, muffled indistinct sharp comment. "... Very well; the transfer should be verified shortly. But bear in mind that if you decide to fail to uphold your assignment we are not without resources. Now /do your job/." Click.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"I always do my job, asshole." Faith isn't talking to anyone anymore. Finally, she takes a deep breath and shoves the phone into a jean pocket before turning on her heel to proceed along the dock. "Do your Shadowy thing when we get there and let me talk to him, just in case I have this wrong and I wasn't being set up here or anything," she offers to Natasha in a rather fixed tone. "But this stinks and you seem pretty cool so you might as well come along and we'll see if it checks out, hey?"

Faith is headed right for poor Professor Hughes' door.It won't stop her if he decides not to open it.

Shadow has posed:
"... Very well. I'll follow your lead on this one," the Shadow replies. "Where to?"

    A brief trip later, Faith is knocking on the Professor's door. It takes a while before anyone answers, but in the man's defense it's the dark of the night, when sensible people are fast asleep. "... Miss Lehane, what ungodly hour do you think this is? If you've dispatched the monster, congratulations, but could your report not have waited until the actual morning?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Did you want your artifact or not? You might want to pay me a little extra but we can probably come to an arrangement," Faith replies laconically. "Since the guys making that delivery are scattered all over the dock I figured I'd talk to you directly. So, with that in mind can I come in or should I come back tomorrow after I've had a chance to misplace it?"

Shadow has posed:
    It's really amazing how surprised people look when you take a stab in the dark that turns out to hit a bull's eye. Professor Hughes just /stares/ at her for nearly half a minute, mouth opening and closing as he tries to process. "... Come in," he finally replies, stepping aside for Faith to pass before closing the door behind her, too shaken to notice the flickering of shadows along the floor...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith nods slowly. She glances around briefly, inclining her head toward a shadow in a way that would be conspicuous only to someone expecting it. Then she strolls inside and looks around slowly. "You're lucky I was paying attention. I figured out something was up when I realized that wasn't a vampire you sent me after." Faith takes a deep breath and holds it for a few seconds. "I don't really like being set up. We could've worked something out, you know?"

Shadow has posed:
    "... It wasn't?" Hughes asks, but something in his voice suggest he's... Less than actually surprised. "I could've sworn it showed all the hallmarks of a probable Vampire Elder. The Council agreed with my evidence..." He walks over to the drinks table. "Would you care for something?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Sounds good. Something hard." Faith flashes a smile as she nods. "Yeah. It wasn't a big deal. They're gone now. She's already taking a seat casually. "So, before I hand it over. What's this thing do? Normally I know better than to ask questions, but given how this ended up coming into my possession and the fact we don't /actually/ have a deal yet, feed my curiosity fo ra second." Faith is calm as can be as she sits. Still watching the shadows for a sign of her new friend as Hughes incriminates himself further and further. "I know the Council's not on board. Which makes it better, really. Fuck those stodgy losers. You're actually /doing/ something."

Shadow has posed:
    "That depends entirely on the user's intent," the Professor replies as he pours two glasses out of an actual crystal tumbler flask and holds one out to Faith. "Representations of deities and demigods in the Toltec religion were commonly used as the centerpiece in religious rituals to invoke said deity's favour, but the nature of the rest of the ritual would determine which aspect of the deity is being invoked - so an icon of Tlaloc like this could be used to invoke him in the aspects of water, fertility, rain or thunder... My client didn't give any indication which one they were hoping to call upon, and, frankly, paid me a substantial amount of money to not care."

    He takes a sip from his glass as he walks back to his desk, not noticing the flickering of the shadows by the wall. "Of course, I'm well prepared to offer a similar consideration for your continued... discretion. What would you say to another five thousand?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Sounds like a good start," Faith replies with a slow nod. "Sorry, normally I don't give a fuck either, just kind of like to know what I'm carrying around since I had no clue to start with. I don't want to do the whole Indiana Jones and the Ark of the Covenant thing." There's a pause as Faith considers this for a moment. "I ought to go get it for you. Before you actually pay me or anything."

Faith comes to her feet with a lazy walk as her hips sway, moving toward the front door of the with a careful stride. She's going to make a show of opening it. It isn't like the Professor can see her glance around to check for her compatriot. Or likely anything beyond her posterior, if his gaze happens to wander. She'll take her time walking back to the bike.

Shadow has posed:
    The Professor seems to have waited patiently for Faith to return with his prize. He carefully unwraps part of the cloth covering it without touching the icon itself with his bare hands and leans in for a closer look.

    "Excellent, this appears to be the genuine article. They always did pride themselves on reliable delivery." He smiles thinly, briefly. "If I may ask - if the monster preying on them wasn't a vampire, do you know what it was? And has it been... dealt with?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
"I think they were some kind of witch," Faith replies. "And don't worry, they've been dealt with. Nothing's going to turn up, the attacks will stop. Council will figure I caught the vampire and-" Faith clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and draws a finger across her neck.

"Anyway. They're not going to be any concern of yours after tonight." Now Faith once again glances around the room. Her agitation is no doubt unmistakable, especially with her repeated furtive glances at the artifact.

"Been bothering you for awhile, I guess? Striking from the shadows...?" There's just a gentle lilt on the word 'shadow'. She's being coquettish. Or maybe she's just waiting to see if anything springs out of one.

Shadow has posed:
    Another smile, even thinner than the previous one, and Faith recognizes this type - it's the smug smile of someone who thinks they're /subtly/ gloating. "Capital. I knew I could count on a Slayer's efficiency," he adds patronizingly as he reaches into his desk. "Now, however..."

    His sentence is interrupted by a half-choking cough, and he suddenly goes very wide-eyed and pale. "Wh---...."

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith walks over to the Professor and reaches out to gently pry the artifact away from him, leaning forward slightly as she does. She looks right into the man's eyes, her lips lightly pursed as she studies them. In detail.

"I'm not stupid. And I'm not fond of being played either." Faith takes a deep breath and then rolls her eyes. "Okay, I'm done with him. Do whatever."

Shadow has posed:
    The Professor looks around in shock as the Shadow's voice emerges from behind him. "What happens to him is entirely dependent on just what he added to what he /thought/ was your glass," comes the response, just a trace of amusement audible.

     The professor jerks, eyes widening in shocked realization before his hand dives into the drawer he'd been reaching for -- and then screams in pain as it is slammed shut hard with his hand halfway inside.

    The Shadow casually pushes him away from the desk and opens the drawer again, snorting as they extract a one-shot derringer pistol. "I thought as much when I saw him dose the glass," The Shadow muses before turning that sapphire gaze on the gasping professor. "Presumably, this 'Council' you mentioned has ways of making inconvenient bodies disappear?" they ask, then continue without waiting for an answer. "That would make sense. And they don't think highly of your reliability; if he'd explained afterwards that you came back to extort more money from him and he was forced to defend himself with lethal force they'd believe him, and likely dispose of your body without testing it for whatever he tried to drug you with..."

    The Shadow reaches down to grab the Professor by the collar and effortlessly lifts him by the collar. "The young lady has superhuman strength and speed at the very least. You'd know better than either of us what you just drank, but I suspect any dose that would give her trouble will be lethal for you in short order. If you happen to have any antidote to hand, this would be a good time to point at it..."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"To be honest, if he's smart he'd've just dropped like ten ruffies. But if that's true he's going to pass out in a second and never wake up. A hospital might be able to help him. Maybe. Is he going to get to a hospital, do you think?"

Faith gives the Shadow a nod, speaking in a lazy drawl as she takes her time in strolling through the room. She tosses the figure casually into the air with her right hand, catching it easily as she does. "For a second I thought that fucker would realize having a Slayer on the payroll is good for business. I overestimated him, I guess."

Faith wrinkles her nose as she turns back toward the Professor and takes a deep breath before rolling her eyes, once. "If there /is/ an antidote that would be good for you. Kind of ruins my fun, though." She shrugs. "We pretty much have him at this point. What do you think we should do?"

Shadow has posed:
    The professor twitches a hand feebly toward another desk drawer. The Shadow opens it with their free hand and extracts a second vial. "Wise enough to keep his antidotes near his poisons, at least," they comment, then turn their attention back to the Professor. "I would like to know the identity of your customers. You would like to continue living. I think an equitable exchange is possible, wouldn't you agree?"

    The Professor swallows loudly, but starts nodding quickly. "Excellent," the Shadow intones before placing the bottle into the Professor's hand and letting him drop to the ground, where he scrambles to unscrew the cap of the bottle and swallow its contents...

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith watches patiently form her corner, sitll tossing a priceless ancient artifact into the air with one hand and catching it without even watching what she is doing. That might be the greatest travesty fo the situation, if truth be told. "Go on. Don't mind me. I kinda want to know this one too. i think you've got it covered, though." With her free hand Faith reaches over and gropes around on the Professor's desk. "...Cigars. Awesome. Wonder if he keeps a lighter in his desk."

Shadow has posed:
    The Professor gasps loudly, recovering swiftly as the counteragent goes to work on whatever he poisoned himself with, one hand reaching for the desk to start pulling himself up. "Names, Professor," the Shadow intones. "My patience is finite."

    The doctor stammers out a name quickly before continuing. "They're... Procurers. Esoteric items, mystic artifacts, actual instruments of Power. I... Bought something from them once, decades ago. I thought that'd be the end of it, but they contacted me out of the blue late last year. Something happened to their usual channels and they decided my position would be useful cover; I could work for them and get paid well, or evidence of my purchase would be found by the authorities..."

    He looks up at the Shadow, searching for.... sympathy, perhaps. Or compassion? Either way, his features crumple as he finds neither, and he continues. "I've handled a few things for them; 'fragile antiquities' is a perfectly good explanation for secure transportation, and the authorities only check for mundane things like drugs or weapons. Then a week ago they called me again. I have no idea how they found out about the Council, but they told me about... Well, you, I suppose, and how you were becoming a problem for them. When I read the reports..." He trails off again, letting his audience reach the conclusion on their own.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"So, you seem like you have this handled. I'm going to find someplace safe to put this artifact. I'll probably send it to the /actual/ Watchers' Council and see what they'll do with it. Keep it safe somewhere in an old library full of crazy Brits." Faith pauses for a second, "Maybe I'll call the Melbourne office." She shrugs and then turns on her heel, starting toward the door. "If you need help you should look me up. We can have some fun. I'm going to stash my gear before someone goes through my bags and finds an entire armory in there. You good here?"

Shadow has posed:
    The Shadow nods, then calls out just as Faith is about to leave through the door. "I do not let those who aid me go unrewarded. Someone will be in touch within a few days."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"I like the sound of that. Keep it real, okay?" Faith lifts a hand for a final goodbye without even looking back as she crosses the threshold.

Shadow has posed:
    And as Faith gets on her bike and drives away, she vaguely hears the front door slam shut. Luckily for her, traffic is exceptionally light this late at night aside from the occasional garbage truck or taxi cab, and she makes it to her motel without further incident, for a proper day's sleep after a proper night's work.

    As for what will happen to Professor Hughes... The Shadow Knows.