9692/Cutting Shadows

Cutting Shadows
Date of Scene:	21 October 2019
Location:	Clinton (Hell's Kitchen), Manhattan
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Darkness, Witchblade

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Darkness has posed:
People like Jay Cantril are a dime a dozen but it's the people they work for that draw in the dollars, leaving the loose change for small time crooks like Jay Cantril. A low rent pusher on the side but a bookie in with some time in the game. Sara is onto one of Jay's usual customers. A would-be smokth talker from the Franchetti Crime family named Dom. He's a loud mouth that likes fast cars, faster women and beating people with a cricket bat. It's his calling card. You see, Dom insists that a calling card is inportant. A trademark. A style.

People like Jackie Estacado? He disagrees. Style is importabnt. Style is money. Style will also get you recognized... and that puts Dom at odds with Frankie "Kill-The-Children-Too" Franchetti. So we have Dom, in his car. Watching Jay, who sits at a pool hall with a few cheap thug friends, being watched by Sara. While also being watched by Jackie across the street at Al's Cornerstone buying a pack of smokes.

Various forces and demands all intersecting as the sun goes down over Hell's Kitchen. Jay Cantril has been making some noise lately. He wants to be bigger than he is. Which put him on Dom's radar as an easy mark to earn some brownie points. What Dom doesn't know is that he's far, far past earning brownie points when men like Jackie come calling. When the Law is looking as well. Dom and Jay have made messes. The sun setting, Hell's Kitchen grows ofdly quiet on a Monday evening. The neon sign above the pool hall buzzes to life.

Witchblade has posed:
Sara's here, keeping an eye on things. And people too. She's well aware of what's at staek and what needs doing. She's also aware she's but one detective. But this is her damn case. And she will see this through. Besides. It's not that hard...is it? She's got that little voice in the back of her head warning her the Darkness is near. Sara snorts. "Yeah so what's the worst he can do. Tie me up in tentacles when I can take him down for all the shit he's done?" Sara asks herself. Her eyes on the prize, so to speak. She's got a vest under her shirt and jacket. The Witchblade's restless. And Sara's determined to get results. Mostly so she can avoid nother 'You are a loose cannon, Pezini' lecture and blah blah results crime rate public confidence. She's willing to go on a limb for this. She steps a pace closer.

Darkness has posed:
Earning points is as good as earning money. For people with more ambition than brains, it's better. Dom, drinking himself into a courageous mood for murder, has been sitting in his car. Talking to himself. Getting himself amped up outside a pool hall, watching through the windows. Jay, a skinny guy in a denim jacket, playing pool unawares. The car door opens and Dom steps out, overcoat draped across his left arm. Holding something as he hip checks the door shut and starts for the door.

The shadows quiver across the street. The void of dark responds to a demand and Jackie Estacado appears wreathed in night. A simple black t-shirt and slacks. Leather jacket and a grey hoodie. A smile plays across his lips as he steps from the alleyway, sparking a cigarette as he moves. A liquid, easy grace. Long limbed and lethal, Jackie sets his eyes on Dom's back... a dangerous conga line if ever there was one.

Sara's senses alight with dangerous warnings. The Witchblade itching for conflict as Darklings swarm unseen in the shadows around The Pink Galleon. Mishappen, unholy creatures with eager grins of razor edged anticipation. Like vultures awaiting a hunters kill...

Witchblade has posed:
Sara steps toward the pool hall door, then she spies Dom. She smiles to herself. Oh this just got good. Sara locks her gaze on Dom. Sure, he's her target, but...Jay's in there, too. "Hey, you" Sara calls,"Hey, got a dime?"

It's lame, sure, but....Sara's under orders not to blow her cover. Like that'll be a problem, sure....though she's watching Dom with a steely glint to her brown eyes. Oh she's on to him. It's just her...and the Witchblade for law enforcers. She could call for backup, but....

Darkness has posed:
Jay Cantril has no earthly idea that danger is clouding the air. Hard to tell past the stink of stale beer and old smoke. Sweat and chalk dust. He happily runs another scam while Dom comes to a stop, hand on the door handle. He looks at Sara, anger in his eyes even as he forces a smile. "Not even for a dime like you, honey." He says bluntly and throws the door open. Walking past Sara, Dom roars across the sound of Soundgarden on the speakers and the clack of billiards balls. "Jay!" He shouts as goes to pull the overcoat off his arm and reveal a sawnoff shotty.

It's happening. It all starts to move faster and Jackie is no exception. Hand in his jacket pocket, long fingers curl light yet uncompromising around the grip of a Glock. Shadows seem to deepen, the air growing colder... still with deadly anticipation. Unseen Darklings hold their collective breaths as Jackie crosses the street. Tall. Hood pulled up, shadows casting an obstructive mask across half his face even as he closes the distance beneath a buzzing streetlight.

Jay Cantril turns at the shout of his own name. Recognition is immediate. "Dominic! You bastard!" Glock pulled not only by Jay hut his friends draw down. The symphony of gunfire erupts with the shatter of glass and the screams of unexpecting patrons.

Witchblade has posed:
Sara has her danger sense on alert, and when the gunfire...she's drawn her own gun. No way she's facing them all on her own. Well, not with a gun, anyway. Instead she's taken to hiding behind Dom's car and using that for cover and just enough of her hands and head exposed to line up a shot. She's moving toward the pool hall, gun in hand. Fuck it. She'll arrest whoever is left. Dom dies? Not her fault, she was caught up in a shootout. She does though snap off a shot at Dom's kneecap area. She's got a shot lined up, though she's shaking just a bit. That, and the Witchblade wants blood, and violence and anger. Once the shot's fired Sara flicks the safety back on and holsters her gun. It's pointless to fight the Witchblade, as living armor covers her from head to toe. There's swords in hand, and she's edging closer now. Hell she could probably /throw/ a sword at the group and impale somebody. Problem is, the Witchblade doesn't make for nice, neat police reports. Yet another reason to not call for backup

Darkness has posed:
All. Hell. Broke. Loose. Glass shatters as the tinted window blows out with small calibur rounds. The neon light is the first to die... one of Jay's friends takes a hot round and spins to the floor. These men are -terrible- shots. Terrible. Firing half blindly, people escape out the back. Out the window. Running for the hills as Dom and Jay shoot it out. The shotgun bellows just before Sara takes cover. Buckshot rending a vending machine to scrap as Jay dives behind it.

Jackie? Oh, he's used to the carnage and noise. He was raised in it. Shaped by it. Ducking a little lower, he hits the sidewalk and shoulder checks the door wide. Sara watching the tall young man with cold eyes and a serene expression steps on broken glass shards... she shoots.

Dom catching a round just above his knee brings the man low. Jackie takes advantage. His own Glock drawn, he puts a round into the mans back. Then again. Arm extended, gun smoking, Jackie Estacado speaks in a calm, smooth bass as the carnage pauses in absolute confusion. "Should have stayed small, Dom." The man turns, confused and stunned, to look at Jackie. He mutters something about a birthday party, trying to grab Jackie's jacket as he falls to his knees. Jackie puts the gun barrel to the mans temple as he sinks downward. "Should have stayed small."

Witchblade has posed:
Sara's closing in on them all. Swords in hand. Witchblade out to play...and she'scoming, she's coming and....she's not stopping any time soon. Speedwalking in. She throws a sword as the Witchblade makes a new one, and attaches the sword to a coil making, in effect, a whip with a freaking sword on the end of it. With that in her left hand, Sara's swinging it like she means business. That other sword in her right hand is aimed low, at, say, the height of ribs while falling. And then...there's the one that she threw. It's your average Middle Ages sword your typical soldier would have used, a one handed arming sword. And Pez threw /that/ into the mix, too.

Darkness has posed:
Blood, bullets, blue chalk and... The Witchblade. Jackie hears the hissing sirens song of The Darkness before Sara even hits the door.

~"She's here, Jackie... She's going to try and kill you, Jackie... She's going to want to -control- you, Jackie..."~ In the darkened rafters, yellow eyes like malevolent jewels glitter in the multitudes. The hiss and curse of fanged mouths when Sara lets blades fly. Jackie? He sneers in distaste. As obsidian and gold washes over his skin, armor flowing like oil, he catches a flailing blade whip in one hand. Gun still on Dom's temple as the man fades into the afterlife. He doesn't need to waste another bullet.

The Pink Galleon is turned upside down as tables flip, one sliced in half by Sara's blades... A man with a large revolver gets pinned to the back wall by a blade through the shoulder. He screams as The Darkness slithers out of Jackie's soul. Estacado's voice too calm for this place of mayhem.

"I don't know you from Mary, sweetheart... but I'm going to send you straight to her if you swing another one of those pig stickers at me."

Witchblade has posed:
Sara's impressed by her blade throwing prowess. So why not....just....take it up a notch or five? More blades are held by more limbs. If anything, Sara's a walking wall of blades. She looks to Jackie. "We have the same goal, Jackie" she says with a wave of her hand. Which is holding a sword. Cue swinging it unintentionally. It's not swung toward Jackie. It's away from him. problem. They ain't the only two in the place. Sara's wanting to cleave and maim and kill. If Jackie gets in the way, so be it. He killed her target. Ohh, beneath the Witchblade's control, Sara's fuming now. The Witchblade's keying off of this to launch six more blades through the air. it's like her six etra limbs. Two from her shoulders. Two from her hips and her knees are going by her emotions and determined to destroy as much as possible due to her anger. Sara's here to destroy, kill. Control? That's a secondary idea. Though she has to admit, Jackie knos what he's doing. In a twisted way. They're not so different. If Jackie had a badge, he'd be like her. If she ran with criminals....she'd be like Jackie. There's not a lot of difference between them. Just one side of the law versus the other. With a limb free of a blade, Sara's got a chair that's smashed on the floor, the leg thrown instead of a blade. Apparently her meeting that wrestler....yeah. She's got the chair in the grip of a limb and gives a chair shot that'd make any mid 90s Attitude Era WWF talent proud. The fact the chair ceases to exist...as does the skull of the poor idiot in the way...shows how angry Sara is. She's in a way doing Jackie's work for him. Great. talk about teaming up with the enemy. Albeit accientally

Darkness has posed:
Fury. He knows the smoldering inferno in that womans eyes and he doesn't even know her name. He knows it for what it is. Blind, directionless rage given an outlet. Oh, how he wished for such simple pleasures. Those were the days, right? "Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and disagree with you there, hot stuff." Shoving Dom to the floor in a heap, the man wheezes out his last breath... The pause doesn't last.

Jay and one of his remaining cohorts, terror filled and pumped to the gills with adrenaline, stand up and open fire on Sara and Jackie alike. Rounds bounce off him harmlessly as the Darkness shores up his frame in impossibly durable armor. Black and gold. Long hair spilling free like an oil slick, his empty gaze locks to the Witchblade as the Darkness whispers taunts and promises to an uncaring ear. All her tazor edged limbs rending the place to bits and Estacado merely ducks and sways from their wild trajectories. "I don't like my name on your lips but... I'll make an exception this time." He winks, the ember orange of his stare suddenly narrowing after the taunt. Kicking Dom's body at her, Jackie actually winces in surprise when she obliterates the mans head with a chair. Blood, splinters and bone shards everywhere.

"Get 'er, boys. Make her remember my name." As The Darkness steps back ovet broken glass and dirty carpet, Darklings swarm from the shadows and bleak corners. A flood of gremlins, goblins, demons and serpents to wet her blades and aid his escape. After all, if she's going to do his job for him? May as well make it worth her time, right?

Witchblade has posed:
Sara's not falling for it. Far from it....if she's going to do his job for him....Jackie runs away....Sara's going to let the Darklings and demons and...things fight. Instead she's following Jackie's path to the door. She's fending off the Darklings and....whatever else Estecado's sent her way. Well then. She's throwing swords toward Darklings too though, and is blasting fire at them. If the place burns down....so be it. Sara's still aware they're shooting at her, and she blasts fire at them. Who needs guns when Sara has swords and fire and, and.....a lotta things too.