IC - Bug City Blues

[arcanus]

2nd Timothy Missionary Baptist Church was an old church its construction dating back to the great Chicago Fire of 1871.

Now just of Jefferson Avenue, its sat silent and brooding its congregation long since dead or hiding in less holy surroundings.

The stonework of the church seemed grey and damp, heavy with Chicagos damp, windly weather.

The Sendings materialisation in the chambers beneath the building, lowered the already dim illumination.

The recipient was aware of its arrival, opening himself to the sender.

<The inner circle wishes to know how the gathering proceeds>

Requested the sender, the recipient thought he could hear MetaPlanar whispers across the magical link.

{It progresses well, we have our first target which will not stand against us}
<Good>
{And the plans upon the outside?} enquired the recipient
<Proceed very well, our man is in place and is gathering support>
{Excellent}
<We will talk again>

The Metamagical Sending ended, the man sat back and thoughtfully regarded the stone walls of his cellar study, seeming to draw in the once Holy Nature of the place.
As the link receeded the man went back to listening to the whispers in his head.

[arcanus]

Several large chunks of masonry smack into the grotesque fleshform.
The things swipes at the double image, as the real Curren arcs inward from the opposite direction.
Truth & Justice glow with energy, sparking to life, embued with power from their wielder, Truth slicing into its head while Justice finds its torso.

The Fleshform screeches in pain, and staggers back, more than a little surprised at its smaller assailant.

[Curren]

Curren saws mercilessly with Justice into the torso of the monstrosity, widening the gaping hole as he withdraws Truth that was embedded in its head.

Ability: Pushing against the flesh form Great Leap away from the creature, Acrobatics of 6,4,3,2,2 (results here are including a -2 for his injury to his ankle)

Pseudo Curren is directed to jump on its back

Pulse Derleth to enter the creature via the wound in the torso in ectoplasmic form and if successful is to form up inside it and destroy! Conjuring of 5,5,5,3

[arcanus]

Roll Quickness.

Initiative Roll

Perception Roll.

[arcanus]

"Shit" cursed No-Entry, in crossing the twelve blocks to 47th they had used the majority of the medical supplies they had secured in their last raid on the Blue Boy held Maxwell Medical Centre.

It seemed that every faction in the CZ was gunning for them, the legacy of their success under Granites leadership, the 'Signs Gangs' numbers were being seriously depleted.

U-Turn was nursing a broken right arm where a round had blown through, Soloman's troll physique had absorbed a substantial amount of harm, but No-Entry was unsure how much more the ragged troll could take.

The state of their supplies was not the biggest disappointment of the day, from their vantage point on the roof of The First Midwest Bank, they had a clear view of the Echo Tower, or rather what was left of it. The skyscraper held a former Shiawise covert operations facility in its upper floors had become the 'Signs Gangs' home and HQ for several months, that was until the UCAS Military had seized the tower.

The Army had then suddenly evacuated the tower which had evicted the gang, during their being away it appeared that the military had taken events one stage further and destroyed the upper floors of the tower.

Soloman breathed a heavy, tired sigh "Back to square one, then!"

[Curren]

Quickness of 13,5 and change

Reaction of 11

Perception 5,4,4,3,2

Move in to attack the beast.

[arcanus]

The ground seems to shudder as the huge fleshform releases a guttural roar, launching itself forwards.
As it does a thick greyish slime flows across its body, thinning into a fluid blanket that envelopes its entire body short of its head.

Malthalamus Curren braced himself, his ankle shooting pain through the entire length of his leg, pivoting upon his good leg, Truth & Justice glowed with power as both blades whistled around, slicing through icor and gore and removing its head.

Taking in his grim surroundings, Curren becomes acutely aware of further movement further down the block, a scuffle.

High above Curren, a small flight of True Form Wasps veered down into a flight path toward the human.
At an altitude of some two hundred feet, the Gagglepus rifted into the Etheric Plane above the Insects, its roughly spherical form seemed to withdraw into itself and then expand, as it did so a stream of metallic spellpower shot past the wasps, seeming to enshroud the humans aura.

The Gagglepus's expansion ruptured into an explosion, darts of iron fired into all directions, the Wasp Spirits screeched in final pain before their forms irrevecably disrupted.

Curren shuddered, but his attention was immediately drawn to the frantic shouting of the driver of the battered van, a short wild haired man in his fifties, of mediterranean origin, Italian to be precise if Curren was not mistaken.

"THEY ARE A TAKING HIM" shouted the man, pointing to a group of figures seeming to drag a struggling form with them.

[Curren]

Curren does a quick double take, confused, in pain and disorientated he staggers panting towards the Italian man. His swords like dead weights in his aching hands are dragging on the tarmac. He pauses and sheathes Truth and Justice.

'Taking who?' he manages to catch his breath, closing his eyes he notes with alarm the starbursts of exertion in the darkness.

'What is happening here?' he thinks to himself. 'One minute I'm alone and now I have the entire cast of Lost series 53 here! And that moggythinglewus is back.' He rubs his head, opens his eyes and lopes up to the frightened driver.

'Taking who?!!' Curren grabs the man by the lapels and bellows in frustration. 'Out with it man!'

'

[Nazir]

‘You are never alone, Curren,’ came a harsh growl from behind the pair.

Looking over Curren’s shoulder, the Italian screamed, ‘Mama Mia!’ stepping back pulling out of the Englishman’s grasp and genuflecting rapidly to ward against this latest abomination.
A little slower, Curren turned, nursing his ankle and bringing his razor edges blades around ready for action.

Upon seeing the black skinned Jackal-man carrying similar weapons to himself Curren relaxed, and despite himself let out a long relieved sigh.

Seeing the stranger’s reaction and realising his error, Nazir forced himself to resume human form.
‘Apologies my friend for being away so long. I have been busy,’ the Egyptian excused his long absence. He looked over to the gore that was once a wasp flesh form.
‘You’ve been bust too, I see.’

‘I haven’t finished.’ Curren nodded over his shoulder indicating the struggle further down the street.

‘It’s a big one,’ Nazir said with a little trepidation in his voice.
Curren started towards the ongoing fracas, but Nazir’s hand on his shoulder stayed his actions.
‘Whoever is there is already lost.’

‘No they aren’t!’ Curren objected, seeing clearly that the victim(s) were putting up a good defence.
‘Agreed but they will be if you go in like that. Send your elemental, to distract it while I do something about your leg. As interesting as it may be, I have no wish to watch a cripple fight this day!’ He ushered the injured man to a shop doorstep and knelt next to him, pulling up the man’s trouser leg and laying his cool hand on Curren’s swelling ankle.

Curren seeing this as the best alternative set Derleth against the foul creature and hoped that Nazir would be quick.

Cast Heal Force 2 Aug to 6: 8 6 5 4 3 Drain: Pah!

[Curren]

Curren nods his head and sits on the kerb of the road as Nazir does his thing. 'Oy, Mario! Come back here fella' he calls to the italian man who is gibbering with fright. 'This blokes alright' pointing to Naz.

'I'm going to take a quick peek mate' he pats Nazirs shoulder as he starts to repair the damage.

Astrally Project, to observe the fighting. Pulse to Derleth to escort me.