Angelique Richter
Active Member
((Props to Vomher for letting me use Klaus von Richter and being a great editor!))
The heat was oppressive in the smallish back alley, even this late at night. In between the bricks and white marble buildings in the center of Washington, D.C. the hunt was on. Angel crouched quietly behind a dumpster filled with cardboard boxes, but had a clear view towards the street and the man exiting the vehicle.
Angel nudged the scientist standing behind her gently with the edge of her boot. His phone lit the harsh crags of his gaunt visage but he stuffed it away with the faintest of whines. Despite the warmth, he drew his ragged feathered cloak around him tighter.
“It’s him. Or at least the current illusion he’s wearin’. Looks like our informant paid off.”
“How can we be suuuuureee?” Klaus leaned over the crouching woman to get his own view.
Their target of interest was busy with a phone call as he locked the door of his rented silver 2013 Prius. He shifted a cigarette dangling between his lips into his right hand after stuffing his keys back into his front pocket. His language was terse and Angel wasn’t entirely certain it was Romanian, but it sounded similar.
Angel pulled out a smallish night vision monocular and stared through it a moment before handing it up to the German.
“Watch the smoke from the cigarette.”
Klaus took the device and began to focus on the now-still cigarette in the man’s mouth as he listened to the other end of his phone in annoyance. Smoke trailed up the man’s face but shifted strangely as it rose, creating a peculiar outline and blurring a few feet above before distorting further into a second stream of smoke. The illusion was almost perfect unless you knew what to look for.
Angel squinted, trying to will the edges of the fae’s true form into her vision. She could almost make out the horns and cloven hoofs, and how the sound was muffled by the spell. She was pretty certain this was a faun, but looked to Klaus for confirmation of her suspicions.
The target began to speak again in it’s strange tongue, and Klaus handed back the night vision monocular with a nod. “And we’re certain it has what we want?”
“We’re as certain as we can be. We’re also certain that it’s the one that’s been killin’ all them folk in the area,” Angel frowns.
According to their information, there had been several slayings already, the victims mutilated in the same way. It was a feat for most of the murders to be shielded from the public, but there had been leaks. Two of the murders were public, and the city was on edge. The informant had given them an address and a vehicle type, and the stakeout had finally paid off.
With a practiced ease, Angelique walked carefully out of the alley into full view. If it had been up to her, she would have simply shot from the alley and dealt with the cleanup later, but she knew they needed to be positive.
Her frame was clad in darkish clothing, covered in an unseasonable black trenchcoat and boots. In her hand was a small black leather book, trailing several strands of bookmarks. Locking eyes with the man, she gave him an up-nod and a warm smile.
“Howdy, Sir. Do y’all got time in yer busy life ta talk about our Lord an’ Savior for a spell?”
The faux-man stopped cold. His voice shifted quickly to a thickly accented English as he set the phone back in his pocket. “I’ll call you back.”
Setting himself in an open stance, he focused himself upon Angel. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Oh, honey, all I want is ta talk to ya about yer life o’sin an’ get ya to repent.” Her hand clutching the book brought it up to a ready position. Unopened, it was obvious it was a very, very old book.
It was enough. The brandished book spooked the faun, the illusion’s eyes widened, probably mirroring the beasts true form. With a single step backward, the beast took off on foot, it's hooves clattering rapidly on the cobbles as it sprinted with preternatural speed down the block and around the corner before Angel could react.
“Shit! Klaus! Keep up with ‘em!” Angel shrieked and ran to a nearby parked motorcycle. As rapidly as she could she began to fumble with her pocketing the book while simultaneously fishing for her key.
Behind the dumpster, Klaus had watched the entire exchange. To his credit he didn’t facepalm as Angel bungled her approach, but resolutely sprung into action when the creature bolted. Cloak wrapped tightly around his gaunt frame, its plumage melded into an unnatural coating of feathers that twisted flesh and bone. The man-turned-monster morphed magically while taking to the air, becoming an eldritch raven. He was gone in a flash, following the fleeing faun.
Her cycle roared to life, and Angel sped rapidly away to chase the cloven creature. With a stroke of her hand, she poked at the button on the bike that lit up a smallish HUD, a singular blip on the GPS allowing her to track the flight of her partner.
“Can you see ‘em?” she shouted into her com.
“Noooo, I am not an owl. I can’t see at ni -- THERE! Yesssss! To me!”
The tracer gave her hope, and she rapidly closed the distance with the perp. This time she wouldn’t negotiate. Shifting her weight slightly, she slid out the MK-23 from its shoulder holster and aimed as carefully as one could from a speeding motorcycle.
Pip! Pop! Bang! Scream!
Three shots deflected off signs and parked vehicles. The fourth took the beast in the thigh, disrupting the illusion and sending the monster sprawling. A fluttering from above announced Klaus had landed upon a nearby awning, ice blue eyes reflecting in the street lights harsh glare.
Angel leapt from the bike after a full stop and strode briskly to the injured beast. “Milă, milă, mi…”
A single, final shot cracked from the barrel, embedding itself in the faun’s thick skull. Leaning down, she removed the satchel that had been revealed when the illusion dissipated. Angel peeked inside, but turned quickly away to retch at the contents.
The giant black bird landed, again reverting fluidly into the body of a man. Klaus slunk stealthily behind her to attempt to peer at the contents revealed, but rapidly leapt away at the emptying of Angel’s stomach.
“Sick fucker. Here. You can figure out the samples,” she managed to say before getting back to her vehicle. Angel closed her eyes and took deep breaths for several moments.
With trepidatious gloved hands, Klaus cautiously closed the case and affixed it to the saddlebags of the bike after inspecting the contents. “I suddenly don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Me neither, Lieb. Let’s take this shit back and spend tomorrow sightseeing like you wanted, ok? No more messy stuff.”
He nodded rapidly at the promise, almost instantly forgetting the grisly trophies they held within their satchel, all strung together protectively around the delicate porcelain doll’s head with the wide, realistic eyes. The eyes that followed you and made those trophies still move and wriggle. The eyes that winked at you seductively from within the still moving dress made of fresh children’s hands.
The heat was oppressive in the smallish back alley, even this late at night. In between the bricks and white marble buildings in the center of Washington, D.C. the hunt was on. Angel crouched quietly behind a dumpster filled with cardboard boxes, but had a clear view towards the street and the man exiting the vehicle.
Angel nudged the scientist standing behind her gently with the edge of her boot. His phone lit the harsh crags of his gaunt visage but he stuffed it away with the faintest of whines. Despite the warmth, he drew his ragged feathered cloak around him tighter.
“It’s him. Or at least the current illusion he’s wearin’. Looks like our informant paid off.”
“How can we be suuuuureee?” Klaus leaned over the crouching woman to get his own view.
Their target of interest was busy with a phone call as he locked the door of his rented silver 2013 Prius. He shifted a cigarette dangling between his lips into his right hand after stuffing his keys back into his front pocket. His language was terse and Angel wasn’t entirely certain it was Romanian, but it sounded similar.
Angel pulled out a smallish night vision monocular and stared through it a moment before handing it up to the German.
“Watch the smoke from the cigarette.”
Klaus took the device and began to focus on the now-still cigarette in the man’s mouth as he listened to the other end of his phone in annoyance. Smoke trailed up the man’s face but shifted strangely as it rose, creating a peculiar outline and blurring a few feet above before distorting further into a second stream of smoke. The illusion was almost perfect unless you knew what to look for.
Angel squinted, trying to will the edges of the fae’s true form into her vision. She could almost make out the horns and cloven hoofs, and how the sound was muffled by the spell. She was pretty certain this was a faun, but looked to Klaus for confirmation of her suspicions.
The target began to speak again in it’s strange tongue, and Klaus handed back the night vision monocular with a nod. “And we’re certain it has what we want?”
“We’re as certain as we can be. We’re also certain that it’s the one that’s been killin’ all them folk in the area,” Angel frowns.
According to their information, there had been several slayings already, the victims mutilated in the same way. It was a feat for most of the murders to be shielded from the public, but there had been leaks. Two of the murders were public, and the city was on edge. The informant had given them an address and a vehicle type, and the stakeout had finally paid off.
With a practiced ease, Angelique walked carefully out of the alley into full view. If it had been up to her, she would have simply shot from the alley and dealt with the cleanup later, but she knew they needed to be positive.
Her frame was clad in darkish clothing, covered in an unseasonable black trenchcoat and boots. In her hand was a small black leather book, trailing several strands of bookmarks. Locking eyes with the man, she gave him an up-nod and a warm smile.
“Howdy, Sir. Do y’all got time in yer busy life ta talk about our Lord an’ Savior for a spell?”
The faux-man stopped cold. His voice shifted quickly to a thickly accented English as he set the phone back in his pocket. “I’ll call you back.”
Setting himself in an open stance, he focused himself upon Angel. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Oh, honey, all I want is ta talk to ya about yer life o’sin an’ get ya to repent.” Her hand clutching the book brought it up to a ready position. Unopened, it was obvious it was a very, very old book.
It was enough. The brandished book spooked the faun, the illusion’s eyes widened, probably mirroring the beasts true form. With a single step backward, the beast took off on foot, it's hooves clattering rapidly on the cobbles as it sprinted with preternatural speed down the block and around the corner before Angel could react.
“Shit! Klaus! Keep up with ‘em!” Angel shrieked and ran to a nearby parked motorcycle. As rapidly as she could she began to fumble with her pocketing the book while simultaneously fishing for her key.
Behind the dumpster, Klaus had watched the entire exchange. To his credit he didn’t facepalm as Angel bungled her approach, but resolutely sprung into action when the creature bolted. Cloak wrapped tightly around his gaunt frame, its plumage melded into an unnatural coating of feathers that twisted flesh and bone. The man-turned-monster morphed magically while taking to the air, becoming an eldritch raven. He was gone in a flash, following the fleeing faun.
Her cycle roared to life, and Angel sped rapidly away to chase the cloven creature. With a stroke of her hand, she poked at the button on the bike that lit up a smallish HUD, a singular blip on the GPS allowing her to track the flight of her partner.
“Can you see ‘em?” she shouted into her com.
“Noooo, I am not an owl. I can’t see at ni -- THERE! Yesssss! To me!”
The tracer gave her hope, and she rapidly closed the distance with the perp. This time she wouldn’t negotiate. Shifting her weight slightly, she slid out the MK-23 from its shoulder holster and aimed as carefully as one could from a speeding motorcycle.
Pip! Pop! Bang! Scream!
Three shots deflected off signs and parked vehicles. The fourth took the beast in the thigh, disrupting the illusion and sending the monster sprawling. A fluttering from above announced Klaus had landed upon a nearby awning, ice blue eyes reflecting in the street lights harsh glare.
Angel leapt from the bike after a full stop and strode briskly to the injured beast. “Milă, milă, mi…”
A single, final shot cracked from the barrel, embedding itself in the faun’s thick skull. Leaning down, she removed the satchel that had been revealed when the illusion dissipated. Angel peeked inside, but turned quickly away to retch at the contents.
The giant black bird landed, again reverting fluidly into the body of a man. Klaus slunk stealthily behind her to attempt to peer at the contents revealed, but rapidly leapt away at the emptying of Angel’s stomach.
“Sick fucker. Here. You can figure out the samples,” she managed to say before getting back to her vehicle. Angel closed her eyes and took deep breaths for several moments.
With trepidatious gloved hands, Klaus cautiously closed the case and affixed it to the saddlebags of the bike after inspecting the contents. “I suddenly don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Me neither, Lieb. Let’s take this shit back and spend tomorrow sightseeing like you wanted, ok? No more messy stuff.”
He nodded rapidly at the promise, almost instantly forgetting the grisly trophies they held within their satchel, all strung together protectively around the delicate porcelain doll’s head with the wide, realistic eyes. The eyes that followed you and made those trophies still move and wriggle. The eyes that winked at you seductively from within the still moving dress made of fresh children’s hands.