Just Like Clockwork: Scene VIII - Caelan, Erin, Ilkin, Rakesh, Rose

Just Like Clockwork: Scene VIII - Caelan, Erin, Ilkin, Rakesh, Rose

9:42 PM, Tuesday, November 11th, 2003

The evening began with Seventeen calling you. What was peculiar about this was that most of you didn't give him your number. Ilkin's cellphone rang. Rose's phone rang as well, which was more odd. Caelan woke up in the evening to find Ilkin's landline ringing. Erin and Rakesh were walking by a bank of pay-phones when they started to ring. Robert refused to talk about where he was when the phone rang, but he had seemed disturbed when you met him earlier.

You arrived at the Museum of the Industrial Revolution somewhat late, due to being detained by a variety of unavoidable factors. Thus it was that upon your arrival, the others had already gone inside, or at least that was the current presumption. It was still early enough in the evening for it to have not gone completely pitch-black, but the night was definitely dark, and the lighting in this part of the city was far from the best. You arrived at the eastern entrance, a side-door over which a camera quietly buzzed about.

It was very quiet.

"Lovely," Ilkin muttered. He was stuck here with the weird hooker and he still wasn't completely clear on how or why she was tagging along. There was a darkened museum to explore and he didn't have enough understanding of Forces Arcana to allow him to see well at night. So he settled for the next best thing.

Ilkin gestured and uttered several phrases in the obscure language only the Awakened could understand. His awareness expanded to include all psychic activity. Suddenly, the Mage was able to sense the presence of everything from Rose and her Geist to the mouse that just scampered down the alley.

He pulled his enchanted gun from his jacket and checked the clip and then turned brightly to Rose.

"Shall we dance?"

Dice Roll: 6d10s8e
d10 Results: 8, 4, 1, 8, 3, 1 (Total Successes = 2)
Sense Consciousness

Rose was late, it wasn't her fault though. Honestly who in their right mind calls a girl and tells her she has to be somewhere right away without any warning?

GeGe was a twitter, excited to see his buddies again and had made her change outfits three times! Finally settling for a Pink tunic shirt with rhinestones forming an S on her right boob and R on the left (to stand for Spearmint Rhino), bright blue leggings covered by black fishnet for warmth and skanky appearance, knee high thick heeled shoes which were better then the thigh highs for running and a black leather jacket with pink fur trim on the collar and cuffs. Clothing was always important when you worked in an industry where taking them off was how you made your money.

Her mood was bittersweet. She had tried to hook up with some of her krew during the day but everyone had been to busy so she still had no information on all the terms that had been used the previous night. The only good point to this was that there had been enough time to get a decent amount of sleep and to phone in that she wouldn't be appearing on stage tonight.

Ilkin also seemed to be late and the two bumped into each other right outside. "Evening." she said while arranging her stockings and ignoring his muttering. When he started talking in tongues and Rose couldn't help but roll her eyes

"And yet I'm the one who everyone thinks is crazy." she mentioned to her geist who was staring intently and shushed her.

There was a tingling feeling coming from the back of her brain and she closed her eyes for a moment to check on her nudest. Suddenly GeGe stood ridged and then started to grin more broadly then a human ever could. He ruffled his hair and shuffled his fingers till they were all some form of the heart suit and then placed his hands on the censor bar that was permanently in front of what would have been his kibbles and bits and started to act like he was wiggling it down.

"Shall we dance?"
Her eyes snapped open and she looked at the man in front of her. Holding her finger up for a moments pause.

"That was incredibly ****ed up."

While having no idea what this guy had done other then talk nonsense rose was sure it was his fault her geist was acting creepier then usual.

"I swear to god, if you take your bottom off Ill think of the most horrible thing I can to do to you." She stared at Ilkin while saying this to GeGe but not bothering to explain. Without further a due she hiked up her bra and patted the side checking on where she had stashed her little gun just in case. "Ready when you are darling."

Ilkin looked like he was about to ask Rose a question but he stopped suddenly. A ping flashed across his senses. A human-like creature was approaching.

"Shh," he hushed her and glanced around, "Someone's coming." There were plenty of bushes nearby, places they could get behind. He crouched low and scampered toward the brush.

"That way," he whispered and gestured toward the ping.

Dice Roll: 5d10s8e
d10 Results: 4, 3, 10, 3, 10, 10, 6, 7 (Total Successes = 3)

"Shh, Someone's coming."
And then he scampered towards some shrubbery. Honestly, the man was like some skittish human gerbil! At least that's what Rose thought before she remembered she was dealing with mafia people and scampered herself to find shrubbery coverage. She was SO not in the mood to deal with any Russians just yet.

Dice Roll: 5d10s8e
d10 Results: 5, 6, 3, 5, 2 (Total Successes = 0)
Hurray for Bushes

What Rose was not in the mood for, however, was exactly what Rose got.

Aleksander looked much the same as he had the previous night. He was still a tall, broad-shouldered man, with the kind of build one generally associated with linebackers and the kind of face one associated with linebackers who were kicked off the field for excessive violence. He wore jeans and a dark grey sweater, but what attracted the attention most immediately was his gun. It was very big.

It was a shotgun, to be quite precise. A gun afficianado would recognize it as a Mossberg 590 Pump Action shotgun, albeit one that had undergone some highly illegal barrel shortening. A layman, on the other hand, would recognize it as a sawed-off shotgun with a bore large enough to stick your thumb into.

Aleksander stopped short as he appeared in sight. Quite likely this was because Rose, who was very talented in many fields, was emphatically not talented in the field of stealth. The bright pink shirt likely had something to do with it. In barely a heartbeat, the Russian Mafioso raised his weapon to point directly at Rose.

"Dobry Vecher, Miss Rose." Aleksander said with a rather mocking formality. "Stand up please. You had a gun yesterday. I think you have one today. Slowly remove it from where you've hidden it and throw it towards my feet. Move quickly and I shall shoot you."

"I do not wish to shoot you, Miss Rose." The Russian said with a faint smile. "This gun makes a very loud bang. But while I have seen many things in my life, I have not seen one survive a fist-sized hole in your chest. And I am a careful man."

Thankfully, he didn't seem to see Ilkin. Not yet, at any rate.

"Ohshit!" It really was the perfect response. Rose stood and forced on her best mock smile at the Russian prick. "Hello darling!"

Not wanting to draw attention to her companion Rose did what she did best, and that was to strip. And so if unzipping a winter jacket could ever be done in a seductively in a high stress situation then Rose was doing it that way. She pulled the zipper down and the jacket open slowly with some very strange slight hip wiggle that really wasn't necessary.

"You know something? I haven't seen someone survive a fist size hole in the chest either." Moving her hand along her neck line Rose's fake smile turned into one of genuine amusement "I've seen someone not survive it though." her hand was in side her shirt now in the most unladylike fashion fishing around awkwardly.

"You see, GeGe has a hole in his chest, poor bugger." She didn't bother to explain herself any more then that, "It looks itchy as hell." finally after a big of tug of war, with her gun and bra, Rose managed to fish out the small wapeon and held it up dangling from one finger in a most un aggressive manner. "I really don't think its save to throw the thing is safe."

Ilkin watched. And smiled. That the Russian had a gun was fortuitous in a way. The Acanthus had ways of making machinery just work right for some reason. He also had ways of making it go abysmally wrong. Bad luck was a bitch, especially when Fate really was out to get you. So he warped the Tapestry around Aleksander so that if the gun did go off, it'd be less impressive.

"Fortunately for you," Ilkin said brightly and stood up, gun pointed at the Russian, "My gun does not make such a loud bang. So fewer people will notice if I have to shoot you. Be a good fellow and set it down. Nice and easy."

Dice Roll: 6d10s8e
d10 Results: 6, 8, 7, 8, 5, 10, 7 (Total Successes = 3)
Monkey's Paw - Mage p 155, targeting Aleksander's gun. Mecahnically this means he suffers a -3 penalty when using the gun. On a roleplaying consideration, the gun casts bad luck that causes him some kind of harm.

Ilkin & Rose

This was what is generally called a Mexican Standoff. A situation of stalemate, of impasse. Aleksander had his shotgun pointed direct at Rose's center of mass. Ilkin, meanwhile, had his gun, which was only a bit smaller, pointed at the Russian. Rose wasn't pointing her gun at anyone, really. Traditionally speaking, there were three ways of resolving such a stalemate. Diplomacy, followed by a slow retreat. Surrender, and one side putting themselves at the mercy of the others. Or pre-emptive strike.


Aleksander pulled the trigger on the shotgun, causing a lead slug about three-quarters of an inch in diameter to burst from the shortened muzzle. This very large bullet slammed at very high speeds into Rose's pink shirt, thereupon into Rose, and shortly thereafter bouncing off a rib. Thankfully for Rose, no major organs were punctured, since in most cases this is fatal, sooner or later. Less thankfully for Rose, this led to her side getting rather badly torn up.

Aleksander, however, did not wait to see the effects of his shot. Moving with the kind of coiled energy one mostly sees in big cats, the broad-shouldered man turned on a dime and rushed back the way he came. Aleksander ran low, keeping his head down and his back to Ilkin, and the mafioso was fast.

Caelan, Cuchulainn, Rakesh & Seventeen,

“Oh stop being such a big baby.” Seventeen was saying, a cocky little smile on his face. “You can heal. Rather better than most of us, I should have you know.”

“Doesn't mean I like being impaled.” Cuchulainn said. You had found him in one of the side-rooms of the Museum of the Industrial Revolution, and looking rather chipper for someone who had recently been impaled with a spiked tentacle. His clothes were a bloody mess, and there was a broad gash in the clothing Cu had worn as Gary (and which did not transform with the rest of the Mage). Despite that, seemed none the worse for wear.


“What was that?” Seventeen said sharply. It sounded like a small explosion just outside.

“That... would be the police sign for the police to show up in twelve minutes.” Rakesh said, breaking into a run towards the source of the sound.

“Hell.” Was Seventeen's pithy response.

Erin & Whim

“---You're weird, but I like you.” Whim was saying as you made your way along the back wall of the Museum of the Industrial Revolution. Given that she was a green-haired young woman in a striped shirt, Whim knew what she was talking about when she deemed Erin weird. The fact that Erin was currently carrying a military-level sniper rifle slung around her shoulder only did not help the changeling's case. “I'll have to tell my superiors... but I'll put in a good word, that's the best I can do. He'll be alright, promise.”


“Thaaaat's not a good sound.” Whim said flatly, the sounds of an explosion just around the corner. She started to walk faster, then suddenly started to run. “Come on!”

"Don't promise lightly," Erin warned again. She couldn't really argue with Whim, and supposed it might be for the best. Any further mental misgivings were interrupted by a heavy shotgun blast.

"Not more running!" she whined, trying to follow Whim with a rather pathetic half-jog. She still hadn't fully caught her breath from the dash across the parking lot - now her stomach was in agony and she was starting to wonder how a body as small as hers could feel so heavy. She seriously needed to lay off the fish and chips. "And what are these stupid wings for anyway?" she gurgled to no one in particular; Whim had outdistanced her in about five seconds.


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