"DON'T you f'ing grab me!" retorts Nora as she swats away Shadrach's grip. Whirling back to face forward she grabs the VIP curtain and throws it open, plastic rings rattling along the metal bar at its top. She stands squarely centered in the opening as she looks within, Shadrach and Taavi flanking behind her.
Nora freezes, totally still as the scene within washes over her. The curtained lounge has overstuffed leather couches, purple and blue lights illuminating it clearly. Seated on the couch opposite the entrance, his chest bare under a black suit coat, is Petyr. He looks up, fully fleshed again, handsome, a sheen of sweat on his bare skin. "My love. You couldn't stay away." His voice is velvet. Nora's breath catches in her throat, a flush spreading up her face. Two women, not club employees by the the look of the scattered clothing, lie half-dressed and unmoving on the couches on either side of him.
...
Emile tells the others over the link, Car's cold. I don't know if he dumped it but it hasn't been driven in a while. Probably not for at least twelve hours. If Petyr's inside, he's been in there for some time...
Shadrach thinks, urgently, He's here.
Oh gods, no. Taavi thinks, broadcasting his terror at the sight of Petyr to the others. He steels himself and begins coordinating a plan with the others through their telepathic link. The edge of Taavi's raw emotions are sensed under the projected calm of determination to everyone he's connected to - the lawyer's calm mental voice in the minds of the others inspires them all to act swiftly and in unison.
The two girls on the couches look too still, their positions too uncomfortable. Like discarded toys. Shadrach focuses on Petyr's face, hoping to pierce Hell's illusion, but is dismayed to find his flushed, hale cheeks appear completely natural. The music pumps from the speakers around you: It's the mind's reputation to be ruled by the world... and it's the mind's reputation to believe what it's told...
"Master Twist," Hansel whispers to Oliver, "It's about to get very loud, I think. When it does, I've got a critical job for you. Do you think you could quietly slip through that door over there," Glancing at the beaded kitchen entrance "and find something good for .... slicing and dicing?" Oliver nods solemnly, his expression serious as he plots a route past the bar and into the kitchen alone.
Outside, Báleygr and The Heavy work together to quickly reconfigure a drone, Emile popping the hood and ripping wires out of the sports car's engine.
"Collapse the roof on Peytr," comes the plan from Taavi into everyone's minds.
...
There is a ripple in the air, and time stands still for a second or two. Nora. Petyr. Everything else slowing for the moment, waiting for the change.
Then Petyr, Shadrach, the Bartender, and Hansel all act at once.
Petyr's laconic smile curls into something more decidedly sinister as he pulls his fingers up on each hand, like he's tugging a pair of strings. The two female bodies twitch in unison. The short-haired blonde on the left rises to her feet, her head rotated too far around. She pivots her body, then with some effort straightens her head, a cold, dead stare at Nora. The ponytailed brunette on the right rolls from the couch and rises from all fours. Her top of her torn shirt is stained a muddy red-brown, a sticky pool of blood left on the leather sofa behind her. She snears, eyes also fixed on Nora.
He's in the VIP area. He ain't like to bleed out, so we crush him instead. thinks Shadrach as he snaps into motion, grabbing a chair from the adjacent table. The bartender pulls a high-tech short-barreled shotgun from under the counter, raising it to take his shot at Shadrach. Hansel's laser pistol clears leather before the bartender can aim, a searing blast going through his leather vest and shoulder (-7), causing the bartender's shot to go wide, a large metal spike careening from the barrel across the room and embedding in the far wall.
Petyr begins a rapid recitation in some foreign tongue, focused on the articulation of his words, even as he remains seated on the leather couch. Shadrach lunges across the space of the VIP, bringing down the chair in an overhead swing, glancing off of Petyr's shoulder with a weak thunk (-3), Petyr looks smug as he shrugs off the blow, continuing his recitation uninterrupted.
An otherworldly growl shakes the VIP lounge as the black velvet curtains melt into a massive canine shape, Grim launching himself through the air. The demonhound savages Petyr with its teeth (-10), causing the chanting to end with a surprised scream.
Nora lets loose a savage yell, pulling her long bowie knife from her thigh holster and rushing Petyr with it, even as the two corpse-women lurch to intercept her. She is a blur of violent motion -- the short-haired blonde punches outward, hitting Nora squarely in the chest, Nora's knife narrowly missing Petyr in the process. Nora wheels, however, and guts the short-haired blonde like a fish (-3), causing her to drop to the floor, and slashes the ponytailed brunette's abdomen as well (-3) in her violent rage.
Oliver ducks under the table of the thickly-muscled man in pumpjack coveralls on his way to the kitchen just as the bartender's gun blast goes wide and Petyr screams in surprise, the Grim's growl sounding through the bar. The nearly-naked stripper on top of the table looks down at the pumpjack, a glamour falling away from her face as she turns to look down hungrily at the man sitting in the chair below her.
- Stripper.gif (440.24 KiB) Viewed 864 times
The greasy blonde woman is scrabbling the gather all her currency off the pooltable next to Hans. The middle-aged man at the bar's black leather duster whirls as he gets off his stool, smashing a whiskey bottle on the bar to get a sharp edge, gripping its neck. A table with three bikers up near the stage clatters as they all rise in a hurry, toppling the furniture. CLANG. At the front door, the bouncer drops a steel cage and reinforcing bar in place, blocking the exit. He turns to face the room with a grim smile.
BOOM! An explosion is heard on the roof. The windowless room goes black.
So, that escalated quickly.
Actions! OOC:
Your roll of 9 is WAY better than my roll for you of a 2, so I rewrote the actions above. 
