Owner	Pose
Ares	It was only when she was healed, only when they had followed the leads, only when they were ready that they made the next steps. Wensen was contacted. He was untrustworthy, but for this part it didn't matter. Untrustworthy was better. He was given word, a hurried call from the man known as John Aaron, asking for a meet with Mr. Berl, to just meet somewhere and let him try and negotiate an end to all this hate, all these attacks. Something to resolve matters.     Assuredly Wensen carried word, telling Mr. Berl of the obvious fear and quaver in the man's voice, the trepidation. It would all lead to much assuredly, and could lead to an end of this whole fiasco. The artifacts were his, now all he needed the blood of this annoying civlian.     Sublime's existence was unknown, and in some ways she was his ace in the hole. He was going to meet with Mr. Berl's representative and hopefully... she'll be able to trail them to the meeting place.     Phase one went well. John drove up in his SUV and got out, holding his hands up even as four gunmen started to frisk him, search him, and then as they walked him around the vacant lot one of them /clocked/ him on the back of his head with a shotgun. It knocked him out seemingly as he went limp and they went and loaded the man in the trunk of the car.     The next step was for Sublime to tail them.
Rachel Goldman	To be honestly, it wasn't 'healed' so much as her insisting she was 'healed enough'. Sublime hasn't been the easiest of houseguests, with her enforced inability to do much in the way of working off energy a source of constant irritation to a young woman who takes pride in regular and vigorous exercise. So being told they're able to start hunt is something she jumps right on. A brief stop at one of her drop points to get a change of her preferred working outfit (she apparently has more than one) to replaced the bloody one and she's ready to go.     She's watching as the meet goes down and....south? She doesn't really have a vehicle, so she opts, instead, for ghosting through the ground, pacing off within it as she estimates distance, then coming up under the car as she also hops into the trunk, staying insubstantial. Easier to ride, and she can drop through the floor again when the car halts and find a new vantage point. "....you okay?" she murmurs softly. I mean, it was a hard hit. He's a tough guy. still, she does feel like she should at least check.
Ares	In the darkness with her peeking through from the trunk, there might be a moment when she'll see him sneak a peek open with one eye and give her a small smile. But that's all he gives for now as the vehicle rolls along. But from her place she'll be able to tell where it's heading. It takes a while, the vehicle driving north? Heading to upstate New York most likely, travelling a bit over an hour, the vehicle's tires thrumming as it rolls steadily along the interstate. But the sound changes when the SUV takes a turn off the side and starts down a more rural two-lane road that heads off into the wilderness. It's almost two in the morning when the vehicle stops and they're at a large mansion of sorts, bright red brick for the walls with some white paint to accent the construction. It's lovely really, and once the car stops the four men get out of the vehicle and start to haul the man out of the back seat.
Rachel Goldman	She looks a bit relieved at that, then settles in as she deeply resists making jokes about him being inside her to pass the time during the trip, but with great difficulty. She idly checks the GPS on her phone from time to time to see where they are, feeling like it's worth the risk.     When the car stops, however, she ghosts out of it, dropping back into the ground until just her eyes are showing as she watches where they're taking him, then glances at the house, before she mentally counts off the distance, slipping out of sight, then carefully poking her head up again once she's fairly sure she's in the house where she can hear what's going on in the next room. She'll parallel the group of men as best she can, sticking to the walls, pausing at vents to keep track of them as she goes.
Ares	Thankful for small favours, John maintains the facade even as they pull him out of the vehicle, dragging him towards the front door of the mansion, his feet leaving twin furrows in the gravel drive, then they heft him up over the porch steps and towards the large oaken front doors.     If it were day it would be much easier to comprehend the sweep and grandeur of the place. The four stories of it, the number of rooms, the beautiful windows that give glimpses into a more refined world inside. Yet all of that now is covered with shadows and deception, only a few lights on within the tall building.     The front door opens and a sliver of light shines out upon the world, broken by their forms stepping past and into the room. They carry him through the dual stairwell foyer, moving him towards a room in the back. Eventually they'll reach another double pair of doors and step through into what may have once been a ballroom.     But there, in that room, are perhaps a dozen men in various well tailored suits, and an old man in a wheel chair.
Rachel Goldman	The blonde ghost silently continues after, then finds a bit of relief as it opens into a ballroom Lots more room to hide and be able to listen, as the walls, while handy for hiding in, do tend to block noise. She circles around a bit then slinks out of the wall, hiding behind the main stairway in the ballroom so she's behind the old man and the meeting about to take place, but close enough to hopefully hear what's going on. She idly slides her staff out of its carry case, holding it in her left hand as she settles in. Her eyes narrow noticeably at the man in the chair, a flash of anger crossing her pretty features.
Ares	The old man in the wheel chair smirks, chortling a bit even as he leans over to inhale a bit from his oxygen tubing. His haggard yellow eyes are on the bleary form of John Aaron who has been drawn to him. "About fucking time,"     The old man whirrrs forwards, his wheelchair stopping a few feet away. "Where the fuck do you get off? You know how much money you cost me?"     "A ton of fuckin' money, boss." Comes from one of the taller men in that line up, his bald head shining and his big arms folded over his chest.     "That's right, a ton of fuckin' money. You couldn't just accept the way of the world could ya? You think just because you earned some money over the years you what, are safe from the world? Fuck you."     "Yeah, fuck you."     John lifts his head up and squints at the wheelchair bound man, then looks to each of them. "Wha-"     Before John can finish speaking the men holding him let him drop and a thin man with slicked back hair /clocks/ him across the jaw with a pair of brass knuckles, "Don't talk when Mr. Berl is talkin'."
Rachel Goldman	The young woman peering around the stairs as she crouches winces at the hit, shifting more on her toes if she needs to push off for a charge. Right now, she's playing along with John, watching him for a sign. Her lips pull back in a snarl as her eyes go back to Berl, her thumb brushing back and forth against her staff, as if she's imagining the CRACKsplat it would make if she just stepps out and smashed it down onto the old man. But she waits, for the moment.
Ares	John had told her, no matter how bad it seemed to get, to hold for the signal. That she'd know when it needed to go down and go down hard. But for now... she'll hear him cough as he shakes his head, blood running down his torn lip as he wipes at it with his forearm. His foot slides along the ground to gain some purchase, allowing him to pull himself up to his knees and look eye to eye with Mr. Berl.     "It wasn't bad enough that you took my antiques. Outbid me in front of my woman. You had the fuckin' gall to not get killed when I sent two pros at you. Two fuckin' expensive pros whose life insurance cost me more than I wanted."     The old man shakes his head, "Lucky I saved a coin on that dumb ass green horn."     A laugh comes from one of the men, but then Berl cuts them off, But all that is over tonight. I mean you know you're dead, right? The fuck you got to offer me?"     "I came..." A glob of blood is spit out and he says, "To end this, so you would leave my son alone." John murmurs low.     "Fuck your son," Berl gestures and the man with the brass knuckles winds up and /cracks/ another punch to the side of John's face, snapping his head to the side and making him hit the ground on hands and knees.
Rachel Goldman	Rachel's hand tightens around the staff, her eyes slit now. Really? This is over him being shown up at an auction? Oh, now she just wants to kick him in the balls BEFORE she bashes his head in. She frowns, keeping her eyes on John from her position, but remains tense, ready to burst into motion should she see the signal. The punch makes her lean forward slightly before she catches herself and pulls back more into cover.
Ares	"You still intend to kill him?" John's voice is stronger, a twinge of anger entering his voice, even as he hands his head, a tear under his eye tracing a rivulet of blood along the side of his face. But the other men don't notice They still laugh a bit, while the man with the brass knuckles wipes off his prize possession.     "Dunno, maybe. Maybe not. Maybe we let him realize yer dead, go to a foster home, then get one of the other kids to pop him. Just so he goes through the whole grieving process."     A short laugh comes from the others, but then Berl says. "Ah fuck this. Kill him."     But even before the Berl's words leave his mouth, John reaches over and grabs the man beside him by the waist and yanking him towards him, hand reaching into his coat and snaring the pistol from the holster. It's a single blurred movement, human shield, pistol withdrawn, and then suddenly a broken knee as John steps in and shatters it with a low kick even as the pistol comes up.     Around the room pistols are drawn, invectives are hurled and all hell breaks loose.
Rachel Goldman	Yup, Sublime is going to assume that IS the signal, as she takes off like a short distance sprinter. She doesn't go around, she goes through the stairs, the staff already spinning around as it whistles through the air, slamming into the back of the head one of the thugs drawing a gun with a sharp crack as he crumples like a puppet with cut strings. She's already moving in close, staff working back to catch the other end, then using both as punji sticks, driving it hard into another thugs kidney as he wheezes in agony before she sweeps him off his feeT, kicking his gun away. She moves like a storm, whirling as she makes a beeline for the old man.
Ares	The old man is whirrrring back quickly even as he reaches for the small holster on the side of his wheel chair just near the wheel well, a small .32 pistol stored there that he is /frantically/ reaching for.     And yet Sublime whirs in perfectly, blurring with motions as her staff slashes out and cracks against the side of that tall bald man's head, the bone cracking from the force of the impact as he hits the ground, his own pistol skittering across the ball room.     She has a moment as the other thug turns towards her, one of the few that is aware of her approach only for her to deal with him roughly, those sticks /stabbing/ hard into him forcing agony to rob him of agency as she sweeps him to the ground, his gun slashing away.     But John, he has the 9mm pistol up and is holding the other man in front of him even as he snaps off a short set of six shots, two rounds for three men, unerringly striking them in the head with such accuracy that the gunmen's eyes go wide.     A cacophony of return fire is heard as several others bring their weapons in line, the firework pop-pop-pop of the weapons firing cause the man he's holding as a human shield to explode with several wounds. He goes limp... only to be hurled to the side into the face of the furthest gun men as John breaks into a run forward, the pistol thrown aside.
Rachel Goldman	She moves, and as she does, her tread grows heavier as she starts to harden her skin, putting more power to her blows now. She spins the staff up over a gunman's arm, jerking hard to throw off his aim, then spinninng into a powerful roundhouse that sends the man flying, crumpling to the ground with a noticeable dent in the side of his head, then...she's there.     The three section staff lashes out like a snake at the old man's scrabbling hand, smashing into it before the other end is held against his throat as she crouches down behind the wheelchair. "Hello boss...' she purrs. "Remember me?" The hard wood presses against his neck, choking off his air as she watches John work. She could try to use him to make the other guards drop their guns, or surrender.     But really, she fully intends to kill him. And she likes to be straightforward about that sort of thing. She does, however, settle for just cutting off his air a bit, as it would be rude to do so without letting John have his shot.
Ares	The old man's hand is /crushed/ against the frame of his wheel and she'll hear him _hoooowl_ with the pain of it, grasping his withered and now broken hand to him as he moans. And that's the moment when he realizes she's there, his eyes widening fully as recognition dawns, then he lifts his voice in a pained agonized tone, "The fuck are yo--ulghk!" As she spins her staff around across his throat and _tightens_ down. She can see his eyes bulging as he struggles so weakly, so very weakly.     But it gives her a perfect place away from the conflict to watch the man whom she had been staying with for the past two weeks. She'll be able to see the precision in the way he moves, the effortless flow and almost casual brutality. His arm comes up and she'll see a round strike cleanly into his forearm and another in his shoulder as he closes the distance with the last four me who are still standing and holding weapons. One moment he's been struck by those bullets, then the next he's amongst them.     A short palm-heel strike smashes the man's nose into his brain powerfully, even as his boot comes up and around to smash into the pelvis of another, sending him to the ground crippled and skidding across the way. The third tries to take a bead with his pistol only to have his hand crushed under John's then twisted in the mangled remains of the pistol even as he chops sharply to the man's neck.     The last is turning around and /running/ only to see Sublime there and his eyes widen in surprise.     But it's a surprise short-lived as John steps behind him and almost casually snaps his neck with the twist of one arm curled around his throat.     It leaves them there now, with corpses. Corpses... and the one man who turned on them both.
Rachel Goldman	She can't help but admire the brutal grace of it. If there was anything that got her to go into martial arts as a young girl instead of something more 'girly' like ballet or gymnastics, it's this, the sheer power and fury of a really skilled fighter. She lets out a low whistle as the last one gets his neck snapped as she casually reaches down, drawing the pistol on the off chance Berl decides to be tetchy, then murmurs. "Well now...looks like your boys are dead...what's the matter, no electrical boy today?" she says cheerfully in a very 'I'm so glad you are so very fucked' voice. Even as she said it, she does have her eyes roving a bit as John finishes up, in case said guy is present somewhere, or if the noise brings more guards running.
Ares	The old man answers her, though probably more out of shock than any desire to be helpful as he stammers, "He-he-he's in the city." The man breaks out into a cough, groaning loudly as he says, "Oh god don't kill me, don't kill me. I got money. I can have five million dollars here in thirty minutes. No shit. No shit." He looks quickly between the two of them even as John steps to stand before the two of them.     Blood is streaming from the wounds in his arm and shoulder, but those wounds in his jaw and brow are already closing, the stain of his blood marring his features still. His dark brown eyes narrow as he looks to the old man, "You would dare. Dare to threaten my child. To try and enact your will on me? On me!" The tone is incredulous, angry, and she'll be able to see a gleam of something deep in the man's eyes even as he shakes his head.     But those are the last words he will give to Mr. Berl, even as John looks over to Sublime and murmurs, "This man has wronged you, do you intend to take his life?"
Rachel Goldman	"Also to totally rob his house." Sublime says, very matter-of-factlike. She's owed her fee, and she'll get it however she can, after all. She leans in by Berl, turning her attention from John. "But you...Mr. Berl...you're a waste of everyone's air. Even if it wasn't for you dropping a building on me...I really, really wouldn't like you much at all." she assures the begging man. "So don't take this completely personally. I mean...I'm trying to be professional here. Wasn't that what you told me? You liked me because I was 'professional'?" she purrs, drawing out the p word.     Then she slides her arm up around his neck, dropping the staff, then twists in a quick, fast motion, snapping the old man's neck like a twig. Her chest rises and falls from the exertion as she straightens up, then with an empty look in her eye puts the .32 to his head and empty it into his head. "FUCK you.' she hisses, tossing the gun away, the smell of cordite and blood heavy in the air. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, then letting it out in a slow exhalation, before she opens her eyes again. "...so that's done. Want to help me rob his safe?" she says, almost cheerfully.     But you're close enough, and knowledgeable enough, you can tell she's covering the emotional impact of what she just did...the person she just dropped into.
Ares	She can tell that her own sentiment is mirrored in some ways in his. There is that same exhiliration, that same growling primal abandon that flirts on the edge of his consciousness. His jaw clenches, tendons bunching as she steps forwards. Then she takes Mr. Berl's life sharply, raging as she empties the pistol into his head and she'll meet his eyes.     She has no idea the entirety of the duality that is John Aaron. There is a part of him that /exults/ in her killing the old man, that feels it is just vengeance, that her moving forth onto that path in her life does naught but honor him... glorify him. That is Ares.     But then there is the aspect of him that would mourn her slipping down that road, for her to lose of herself and her humanity. She can see it in his eyes even as he steps towards her and growls low in that deep baritone, even as the blood from his wounds trickles down his side. "No."     A step closer and he grabs her by the shoulders, "No Rachel. We burn this place. Burn it to the ground."     He gestures around and his voice is almost a snarl as he says, "Because we are better than this. Because we were /forced/ to this." He meets her eyes, only /now/ breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his ears as he looks to her, trying to force himself to control. "Do you understand?"
Rachel Goldman	As the hands fall on her shoulder and pull her to face you more, Rachel blinks a bit, her expression turning more even, flat as she looks back at you. "He owes me money, John." she says, almost patiently. "And it's blood money. No one will care. At least I'll make better use of it than he did."     She doesn't pull away from the grip as she raises her chin slightly, cool blue eyes meeting yours. "Besides...your stuff might be here. You want it back don't you?" The tone is ruthlessly practical...and it's very obvious she absolutely nothing wrong with robbing the dead man who wronged her.
Ares	"Then I'll pay you," John's eyes are intent on hers and he frowns, "These material things here... are not worth what it will cost you... what it would cost me in the future." His eyes narrow, "This had to be done, and I regret it not one whit. But perhaps... with this..." He looks around, "It will allow us to keep our souls a little longer."     Which is such a curious thing for him to say, and yet his eyes are so plaintive as he asks her quietly, "Do you not trust me, Rachel?" And as he says that he then realizes that he is touching her... and his hands pull away as he steps back.
Rachel Goldman	The woman furrows her brow, her eyes flashing a bit at the argument, the adrenaline and anger that still is flowing thorugh her mind shining in her eyes. But the reminder of losing her soul...that strikes a chord in her, before she looks away. "Pff. God dammit John.' she mutters. "This is SO fucking stupid. It's a WASTE..." she grumbles. She shoots you a look, her blue eyes sharpening, then throws up her hands. 'FINE! Fine, we'll just burn the whole damn place down! Money and all! Why not!" She kicks the wheelchair a bit, then folds her arms under her chest, as she pouts a bit.
Ares	"Call me an asshole later," John tells her as he gives her a nod, "Go and get one of the vehicles ready for us. I'll go rig the gas line." And as he says that he turns away from her, wincing a bit as he grabs at that bum shoulder of his, even as he breaks into a jog away from that ballroom, most likely either heading towards the kitchen or the basement.     He pauses near the door and points towards her, "Five minutes, go." That said he steps through the door and she'll hear him moving through the hallway away off into the distance, leaving her to her own devices for now.
Rachel Goldman	The statuesque blonde grumbles snidely under her breath. "I can call you an asshole now too. Asshole!" she yells after him. Yes, she realizes she's being a bit childish, but she's frustrated as hell now. She sighs, then looks around before walking over to find the guy who has the SUV keys, then rummaging through his pockets for them.     And in a little spirit of rebellion, she does, in fact, go through his pockets for loose change and nab any bills in his wallet.     She then stalks back towards the front of the house, yelling back to you. "Make sure there are no servants around! Not their fault their boss was an ASSHOLE TOO!"     Okay, very childish.
Ares	It doesn't take too long for him to rig the gas line to flood the downstairs with gas, gauging how long it'll take it to reach the pilot light across the basement. It's enough time, even as he makes a last run through the house to make sure they're truly alone. As it turns out Mr. Berl thought enough about committing murder that he sent the help home perhaps, or perhaps there weren't any on duty in this place.     Whatever the case may be, however, they are the only two exiting the mansion this last time.     He heads out to the vehicle she's chosen, tilting his head slightly at the realization she chose the passenger side. He'll slide into the driver's side, wincing a bit at his injured shoulder but not letting it trouble him too much. He'll shoot a glance at her and nods, "I know. I know."     And with that he puts the vehicle in gear and starts to head down the driveway away from the mansion.
Rachel Goldman	Daggers are glared at you. Yup, she's still mad, if resigned at this point. She does wiggle around so she can look out the back window, watching patiently, before....     There's a roar of fire as the windows of the mansion suddenly explode outwards, flames gouting through the first floor. She made sure to shut off the fire suppression gear and sensors no the way out...nice when they put it all on one panel with big off switches.     The flames reflect in her eyes as she watches them, then inhales and lets it out in a huff, before she twists around.     Okay, she feels a bit better now. She's not AS mad.     But still pouting on the trip back as you pull away and head back to the warehouse, idly tapping her fingers on her leg as you do, then leaning back and closing her eyes. She stays that way until you pull up outside, opening them again as she yawns. "Mmm....home again home again..." she mutters, unbuckling and hopping out of the big SUV. "Need help dumping the car?"
Ares	"No," Is his answer to her, but then he stops and looks at her in the front seat of that car, turning to meet her eyes. "I know you're pissed at me, Rachel." He shoulders open the door and gets out to stand against the side of it, his hands resting atop it as he looks across the way to her, "And I know you'd rather have come out of that mansion draped in gold and jewels."     The tall man looks to the side, as if looking off into the distance where that four alarm blaze had flared to life after their departure. Then back to her, his lip curls. "But, to be fair, diamonds are more your look I'd imagine. But beyond that, this was a victory. A victory that required craft and talent. And victories should be celebrated."     He gestures with a nod, "So go, get changed, either get comfortable for a good dinner and a drink, or hell, we can go somewhere. But for now. We are safer than we were."
Rachel Goldman	Well, diamonds ARE a girl's best friend. Also rubys, sapphires, emeralds, etc. She twists her lips a bit, frowning at you, then sighs. "Okay, I"m glad he's dead, yes. And that you don't have to worry about him coming after your kid.' she says, honestly. Because really, screw a guy who wants to kill a kid just to be an asshole. She sighs, then walks towards the door, kicking off her boots as she opens the door to step inside. "Fine. I'm grabbing a shower. I think I got a bit of him on me..." she tossese over her shoulder. "Then dinner's good."     She disappears into the guest room, closing the door behind her. A minute later you can hear the shower come on.
Ares	As for him she'll hear him walk away and since she's using the upstairs bathroom and shower... that leaves him downstairs in the gym. He'll step to the basement stairs and head on down. Eventually she'll notice the slight decrease in water pressure as the other shower turns on, but luckily the temperature stays nice and warm even with two people in the shower. Such luxury.     But after perhaps ten minutes he'll emerge from the basement, wearing a white t-shirt, socks, and a pair of navy blue sweat pants. Since they're not going out no real need to dress up assuredly. A glance is given in the direction of the stairs and her room, but then he pulls open the fridge to start gathering ingredients for the meal.
Rachel Goldman	When she emerges, walking down the stairs, she's barefoot, and dressed much more civie, her hair still damp from the shower as she saunters down to find you. She peers in as she glances at the fridge. "So what are we having today, exactly?" she says thoughfuly, walking over to snag a beer from the fridge and then using her (high density) thumb to flick off the bottle cap before taking a sip.
Ares	"Pair of ribeyes, baked potatoes, green beans?" He glances over at her as if gaining some sense if that's what she's wanting to eat. Then he tosses his head, "Go get a bottle of something good." He starts to pull out the ingredients one after the other, though also remembering some herbs that get tossed on the counter as well.     With that done he rounds towards the cabinet under the stove and starts to dig around for the right pots and pans needed, coming out with a large ceramic skillet that he tosses onto the stovetop and turns on the heat. A bit of oil and it's going, "I... am going to miss cooking for another adult."
Rachel Goldman	The woman mmms. "I could go for some protein and carbs, sure..." she says, then mmms "Red, then?" she asks, starting to head over to the wine cabinet. "Let's see what you got..." It's been a while, but you can't be a high society girl without learning at least a bit about wine (or whine, but that's another story), though she's a little out of date. After some searching, she selects a savigion and brings it over.