Whitechapel, Part IV

Ilkin 10:21 pm
"Hold it!" Ilkin shouted and drew his guns, pointing one at each of the other Mages. "What the devil is going on?! Seventeen, are you sure this is not the real Athena?!" ||

The Storyteller 10:26 pm
The air hissed at the incredible heat in the room, and Ilkin could feel the blast of hot air even where he stood. Melissa dodged to one side, which was likely the only thing that saved her life. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and Melissa cried out, a chunk of her left arm and shoulder reduced to charred and blackened flesh, a bit of white bone visible. The agony must have been inhuman. [3A to Melissa]

The Storyteller 10:31 pm
"Marduk, you're a lovely man, but this is really none of your business." Seventeen said, glancing at Ilkin's gun but looking singularly unconcerned. His cane tracked after Melissa. "No more deaths, Dominic. No more deaths."
Melissa rolled rapidly on the ground, whimpering from the burn. She was a powerful Mastigos, certainly, but she was not a battle-mage. She'd never been hurt so badly before. "Marduk..." She breathed, taking cover behind a desk. ||

Ilkin 10:37 pm
"Not my business?" Ilkin snapped, "I think you made it very much my business when you dragged me into all of this, Seventeen." He tilted his head. "But thank you for calling me lovely." He trained both guns on 'Melissa.' "So what's your story?" he asked, "I suggest you confess because I can make Seventeen or my werewolf friend here very, very unpleasant for you." ||

The Storyteller 10:48 pm
"Marduk? Why...?" Melissa said, propping herself up on one elbow, looking at Ilkin quietly. "You believe him? I came here to track down the killer..." ||

Ilkin 11:02 pm
Ilkin smiled serenely. "Well, you look like Athena but you don't smell like her," he said, "And I do know how Athena smells. So if you are her, you might want to explain yourself a little better." ||

The Storyteller 11:04 pm
'Melissa' tilted her head, and then quite suddenly, she moved. Ilkin had never seen anything quite like it before, and he dealt with the manipulation of time on a regular basis. She moved like a serpent or a centipede, so quickly that the eye had a hard time following her.

The Storyteller 11:05 pm
Even as it moved at whip-crack speeds, the flesh tore, and some kind of bizarre limb brust free of its unwounded shoulder. It was short and muscular, and tipped with some kind of long, razor-sharp blade, which slashed across Seventeen's chest. [3 Lethal to Seventeen]

The Storyteller 11:08 pm
"What in...?" Rakesh said, the words lost as his body roiled into something altogether different-looking, a man-wolf some nine feet tall, that loped towards 'Melissa', smashing the half-insect thing aside. [2 Lethal to 'Melissa']

The Storyteller 11:11 pm
"Explanation enough for you?" Seventeen said, blood pouring from his wound. The blade had sliced through his shirt and scored along his breastbone. He swung the cane, another white-hot bolt of fire pouring forth. [3 Aggravated to 'Melissa']
||

Ilkin 11:28 pm
Ilkin's eyes flashed and he furrowed his brow. "I'm afraid coming here was a very, very big mistake, 'Dominic,'" he said. He wove the strands of fate and pronounced doom upon the creature. At the same time, he stepped back, moving out of range of the creature. "This place will is your undoing."

The Storyteller 11:46 pm
The entity slashed at Seventeen again, the scythe-limb all but disemboweling Seventeen, and then Dominic fled. He moved unwholesomely fast, disappearing down into the depths of the Bell Foundry. [4 more Lethal to 17, and Dominic uses Acceleration to run off]
"After him!" Seventeen said, coughing up blood. ||

Ilkin 11:54 pm
"You owe me an explanation after this, Guardian!" Ilkin called. Words spilled from his lips and suddenly time slowed aorund Ilkin. The mage took off. To everyone else he was like a blur, running down the stairs after Dominic
||

The Storyteller 11:56 pm
The basement of the Whitechapel Bell Foundry was filled with all manner of large machinery, furnaces and casts and bronze and brass and steel bells of all shapes and sizes. It was a maze, down there, in the darkness, a maze where the Scelestus would have had all the advantages, were Ilkin not a mage himself.

The Storyteller 11:58 pm
He sensed the creature moving, moving with that impossible swiftness, along the ceiling. Ilkin looked up, and recieved his first look of just what Dominic was. He did not look human. He had the proportions, certainly, a human-shaped body, with a head and arms and legs. And he wore clothing, a tattered frock coat of an archaic cut. But there the resemblance to humanity ended. Dominic had a second pair of arms, sprouting up from his shoulders, slender things of muscle and bone, with scythe-like blades atop them. His eyes were golden, and far too large for his face, and his hands and feet had been turned into something clawed and capable of clinging to a ceiling without sound. He moved in utter silence, approaching from above, moving more like a serpent or centipede than anything still possessed of true vertebrae. ||

Ilkin 12:29 am
Ilkin raised his gun and, blessed by Time, fired. The shot might've missed otherwise, but the bullet careened into Dominic. The Acanthus swore under his breath and dashed back upstairs. He wasn't about to stay in the basement with the fiendish centipede-man that could run fast, too. "Seventeen, you owe me big for this!" ||

The Storyteller 12:32 am
The Scelestus, at the least, seemed to have roughly the same idea, given that the last Ilkin saw of him, he was scuttling away into the further depths of the building, more insect than man.
Up above, Seventeen was moving rather more readily, having thrown an arcana of healing upon himself. He looked at Ilkin. "No luck?" ||

Ilkin 12:37 am
"I think he's going deeper in," Ilkin said, "Are you two coming?" ||

The Storyteller 12:39 am
"Of course." Seventeen said, while Rakesh just nodded silently. This was Mage business. "Lead the way." ||