[Actual Play] Scion: the Ragnarok Gambit

[McKitty]

Lupus Roma is one of the darker, more akin to horror actual plays, Scion is on the opposite side of the spectrum.

In Scion, you are a half-divine child of the gods; any god, like Zeus, Odin, or Isis. The Pantheons all exist and used to interact with the world, back before fate-binding grew too strong and forced them from direct meddling. While in canon-Scion, all pantheons are showcased, the game I'm running for Whisper is founded on the fact that the Norse Pantheon was the -only- pantheon. It was the only one to survive throughout mankind's evolvement, and as such, the fate-binding surrounding it changed the spiritual aspect of the earth -to- Midgard.

As almost anyone who studies the Norse mythology for long, there's something large and epic hanging over the gods: Ragnarok. This story is about the events leading up to the Final Battle.

Characters of Note:
Gabriele Roth: Born to a groupie mother and an unknown rockband father, Gabriele lived a rather free-willed life. Unlike other girls who grew up like dainty wallflowers, Gabi grew up to rival some of her 'brothers' in the road-tour's group in the strength department. When she matured, she had the good-looks of her mother, and the sculpted body of an Olympian athlete. When her father visited her during one of her stints as a bouncer for a concert, she found out about the other half of her heritage: she was a daughter of Thor, the Norse God of Thunder, and he was proud of how she turned out. They talked a bit, and when he left, he gave her Thunder's Might, a set of brass-knuckles with chips of Mjolnir, Thor's Hammer embedded in the runes covering the weapon.

Belinda Ashtoncroft: A silver-spoon child of a widower, Belinda grew up with nearly anything she wanted at her fingertips. She never got along with her mother, because where her mother was sunshine and happiness, Belinda was a dark and gloomy child who preferred sniffing out secrets and using them as leverage against whoever Belinda was a little annoyed with at the time. Belinda's visitation occurred on the front-line coverage of the war. Belinda's mother, real mother, was there watching over the sheer amount of death being wrought. The woman approached Belinda and reminded her that there were worse fates than death that could keep wars and violence from breaking out, that secrets and blackmail could cripple even the most war-hungry man, if the secret was the right sort. Hel awoke the divine ichor in Belinda's blood and told her daughter that she had potential. When she left, Belinda was given two gifts: a replica of Hel's own dagger, and a PDA of the Nine Worlds.

Conall Willson:
A good-ol' southern boy with the good looks of the angels, Conall was trouble from the moment he was born. Even as a babe, he knew how to charm folk into whatever he wanted at the time. In the army, as an officer, this charm enabled him to have his men follow him into hell and back. It was in the military where he was hand-picked for special-ops missions and it was on those missions that Conall ran into his real dad, Heimdall. When he retired, he was ushered almost immediately into a 'security company' and quickly rose to be one of it's best agents. Heimdall's gifts to his son were three-fold: Crushed Bones of Ymir, a Skeleton Key that worked on -any- lock, and Dragonseye, a desert eagle with deadly accuracy and firepower.

***
Since this already took up space, the sessions will be recorded starting with the second post.

[McKitty]

The music thrummed through the length of Bersark, the club you bounced for. You were downstairs, overseeing the illegal cage-fights that the owner paid good money to stay that way. It wasn't as crowded tonight, being an off-day, but there was at least one high-roller patron who had thugs lurking around him.

Inside the cage, the fighters circle each other like rabid dogs, both looking for the right opening. The room stinks of sweat, smoke, and blood. The smells rankle in your stomach, but jobs are money and money gets food in your stomach.

She passes by several of Bersark's usual's with a nod or a smile, knowing they won't dare pick a fight with her so near. If they want their fights and money, they play by her rules. Everyone did. But high-rollers like the bastard with his puppy dogs, always tried to start something. Always. She made a point to keep an eye on at least one puppy at all times. Fuck's sake she'd have to talk to Ken to get an air fresher down here.

As your eyes roam over the room, you take in the patrons. There's the High-Roller with the thugs. There's the usual fight-fanatics, the groupies, the wives and girlfriends. As you reach your position by the door, you notice a tall man in the back. He doesn't scream 'high-roller' but you can just tell he isn't a regular joe coming to watch the fights. He's blond, and from even where you stand, you can see the cut of his suit is perfectly tailored and hung over a fit physique.

She takes in the blond man with a deep green gaze and turns to the big man on the other side of the door, her partner in crime thus far. The crowd cheers when one of the fighters finally attacks and she grins, momentarily imagining those cheers her own. One day perhaps. She jerks her head in the blond's direction. "Hey Mach, whatcha think of the blond in the suit?" Of course half of her words are drown out. She pauses, used to the roar and noise, and tries again.

Mach, a big man with a big heart, shrugs massive shoulders. Before he can speak though, there's an even louder roar from the crowd. You turn in time to see the champ's head twist sickeningly to the right, blood spraying in an arc from his mouth. The under-dog's fist connected solidly with his opponent and the faint crack of bone on bone rumbles through the room.

The champ, you vaguely recall his title being something stupid, drops to a knee and looks up to see the second blow delivered. Another crack of bone on bone, and the man slumps down, still.

Shoulda played a bit more attention to the little dog, tough guy. "Gotta hand it to the little guy, he can toss a punch- if only when someone's not looking." Gabi grins, folding her arms without thought of doing so. So used to looking intimating is she, that she doesn't notice the group of college boys skirt away.

The roar goes wild and all of those who placed bets start toward the ones who lost the bet. Alway the most interesting part of the night to be sure. "Ah, I think we may have some fun if I'm playing cards right." She steals a glance, not sure why, to the blond again then focuses on Mr. High-Roller.

Mach nods and steps forward to do his job. With a voice that could rival a loudspeaker, he commands the crowd to head out into the lobby so the floor can be cleaned and so money can exchange hands. Eyes narrowing, he also reminds them that any fighting outside the cage results in a month-ban and your face bashed in.

The regulars leave, knowing the rules. The winner saunters out, exulted in the fact that he's about to get paid handsomely. The loser is picked up by Mach and carried out as well. Mach pauses at the doorway and turns to you. "Looks like our Big-Money friend doesn't want to mingle. Keep an eye on him, will you?"

"I would absolutely -love- to Mach, only for ya hun." She tosses him a wink and laughs. Not watching him leave, she crosses the room to the cage, now half way to Mr. High Roller, close enough to jump him should she need, but not so much to seem that jumpy. She surveys the pool of blood and is unimpressed. He'll live, not too sure how well, but the fighter might live. The club would see to it.

More pass by her, some within reaching distance but she does nothing but smile as they do. She patiently waits to see just what Mr. High Roller is up today. And if the jackass would hurry, she could catch the last of the next performance from whoever was playing.

You weave through the crowd easily enough for someone of your size. Though not little, you still have some of that grace that makes fights look like dances. The last of the regulars leave and the door clicks with a faint resounding finality. It's such an odd thought that you turn to make sure it wasn't locked as well.

No. Not locked, but there's another click from behind you. "There's ten minutes before the next fight, isn't there?" The voice is rough-and-tumbled.

"Yeah. But guests are to wait in the lobby 'til we're done cleaning." She glances over her shoulder to the voice behind her, her body slowly turning to follow suit. Her arms still crossed over her 'Yes, They're Real" shirt, she stands at her tallest easily 5'9. And a half, she would argue.

"There a reason yer not following the rules?"

There's a gun out. Thankfully it's not pointed at you.

"A very good reason, and one that now has only nine minutes left." The blond man that had caught your attention before has a desert-eagle aimed at the profile of Mr. BigWig. The gun is matte black, with what you can make out to be Nordic runes running along the barrel. "See, I've been tracking this motherless son-of-a-giant for a week now, and your club's rules of emptying during the pre-fights gives me ample time to finish my job."

At first, she doesn't believe the man at all. Norse runes, sure, nice looking gun but he still has a gun out in her club. Bad business as they say, but just to make sure she takes her eyes from blondie to check Mr. High Roller. A giant huh?

I'll be damned, fuckanay a giant here and I didn't notice. Fuck me. She takes a moment to make sure that door is closed. "Well you had better do one of two things: One, you allow me to- help you clean up this mess or Two, you drag his ass out side. I won't be loosing my job to technicalities, understand?" She says this all with a genuine smile, almost as if they were talking of the weather.

Blondie chuckles and gives you a once-over. "I'll appreciate the help. I don't think those dogs will stay on the leash once we go after the master, eh?" He gestures with a flick of the barrel to the six thugs cracking their knuckles.

Mr. Big Wig steps out of the half-shadow he stood in, and sneers at you. It's obvious now why you missed such a titanspawn wandering in. He looked to be a lesser-giant, and if Blondie was right, he was a half-son. Big and bad but not filled with ichor enough to have the mask that most did. "I pay good money to watch the fights, and I'll pay you even more if you dispose of this pretty-boy, you hear me Bouncer?"

"You must come in when I'm on leave." She says while sliding her hand in her pocket, wrapping her hand around the cool metal of Thunder's Might. A gift of her Father, rare to all, loved by her. If she squeezed hard enough, the cold metal almost felt electric.

"Never seen you around Titanspawn." One moment the big girl is standing next to Blond, grinning away, the next she's simply a blur. If there were normal humans there, hardly any would see her until its too late. But this guy, he just might. Closer, closer, she raises her fist sheathed in runic stone aiming for the vile being.

Your fist swings through the air; with a yell fit for any viking, you push your strength behind your attack as you make to turn the half-breed's head into mush. -BOOM-. The connection of Thunder's Might makes the ionic crack of thunder.

Only, it's not in the half-breed's face. It's caught in the fist of one of the thugs who snarls and seems to shrug off the blow like it was nothing special. He snarls, and his eyes seem to dilate into solid black orbs. It's enough of a warning to twist your body serpentinely to avoid the follow-up sucker punch he aimed for your gut.

Mr. Big Wig stares in shock at you, your fist only inches away from his face, and then turns to the rest of his crew. "Get them. NOW!"

Blondie laughs from behind you and the fight explodes. The rest of the thugs. Six in total if you're counting right. Five of them step away from the giant and shrug off thier overcoats. Sheathed on their backs are large double-headed axes that gleam dangerously in the light.

One turns towards you and roars out an insult in the old tongue, pulling his axe out from his back to swing wildly down at your skull. You grin though, and step back to watch the axe bite into the concrete floor. Really, did they think they were messing with some ordinary girl?

The axe digs in far enough in the concrete to have the edge disappear. Cracks fissure out from it, and the thug grins evilly as he swings it back up, ready to give it another shot. Behind him, you see the flash of gunfire and the crack of the shot as Blondie takes aim at the thug leaping at him.

The thug reacts quickly, throwing the flat side of the axe forward to have the bullet bounce off the metal, ricocheting into the wall. He lands to Blondie's side. The second thug swings his axe in a long arc, grinning as Blondie side-steps it, only to twist and curve it upward, the blade punching halfway into the man's thigh.

Blondie grimaces, but doesn't scream.

"Should've gone into the parking lot. Oh well." She sighs. Someone had to have heard the gunfire and oh, crack of thunder on a cloudless night. Better to get this over with but might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

[McKitty]

He starting to swing. The move is almost in slow motion as death decides to watch yet another fight in this place to see if she's needed. With another valkyrie war cry, Gabi throws her weight into this punch, catching the arching axe out of the corner of her eyes.

Too fast. You're used to fighting brawlers and druggies, not souped-up barbaric warriors wielding axes from the 6th century. You manage to deflect the worst of the blow, the retaliate by ramming your fist hard into his solar plexus. He wuffs out a breath of stale air, and the axe clips your shoulder, taking out a hunk of flesh along with it.

Still. You're alive. You may be bruised and bleeding, but you're alive. The thug draws the axe away, aiming to catch you off-guard when he explodes from the chest outward. You glance up in time to see a mangled chest cavity staring back at you, bones and sinew sticking out where they shouldn't be.

He gurgles and side-steps before collapsing on the floor. Looking up, you see Blondie staring intently at you. "Gonna need some help over here, figured you might as well get some free-time, eh?"

He flashes a grin and turns his attention back to the thugs, both of whom scream even worse curses as their friend rasps out a final breath. He spins around, easily avoiding the arc of one axe and lands to face the second one square in the eye. "You can't touch me." He commands, and you swear you feel the air pulse in response.

The thug doesn't listen and brings his axe full-on into Blondie's skull. You see the blade meet his hair, then, moments later, you see the blade resting on the ground, soaked in blood. But Blondie is still standing, still wearing that look of authority as he stares into the confused thug's eyes. "I told you." His gaze flickers to you. "Now, Gabriele!"

Something in her brain knows this guy shouldn't know her name but of course, that's not important at the moment. Not that she would let it drop though. One foot pushes off, and she leaps gracefully through the air as if she weighed no more than a cloud.

Hardly a second passes, and she gives out her cry at last moment. SLAM! She tackles the thing, riding it down, happy to have a cushion this time, unlike the last. Upon landing she hears bone crunch that are not hers, and the rush of air that's knocked from its chest. "Hot damn!"

"You called?"

Blondie blinks at you, then shrugs it off. "Playing field is fair now. Deal with that one, I have this one." He whips his gun around and fires at the charging thug. The impact staggers him, but he growls in frustration and keeps coming, apparently disregarding the nasty hole in his shoulder.

Blondie furrows his brow. "Well, that's not what I had planned."

She sits a tad unbelieving as well. It just shrugged off a bullet. It just shrugged off a bloody bullet. That grin carved further up her pretty face, casting a almost crazy smile as she tightened her fist around Thunder's Might, jerked it back, and sent it into the skull of the one on the floor.

"Dodge that sucka-" Just as she speaks she notes that her fist did not in fact send little chucks of brain matter everyone in a lovely shower as it should. Instead there was now a wonderfully clear impression of her four Norse runes. She had heard a crack, but no caving, no sick squash.

"My plan seems to have gone askew as well, Blondie..."

Blondie gives you an incredulous look at the nickname and grunts as the bullet-ridden thug slams into him, using the flat of the axe to send him to his knees. He spits out blood on the floor and glares upward. "Now you're pissing me off."

Your prisoner thrashes underneath you, fumbling to grab you to rip you off, but you hold fast, grinning madly down at him.

From the other corner of the room, the half-breed watches you both. "You're overwhelmed, Scions. Best quit while you're ahead and perhaps I'll not sic the rest of my pack on you, mm?"

Blondie spits up more blood as a retort and sends it flying over the floor to splatter at the giant's feet. "Shove an axe up your ass, halfbreed!" He yells, and drops his gun. As it clatters to the floor, he lifts his fists up straight into the thug standing over him. A solid blow.

Blondie's hands dig up into the jeans and you can see the thug rise on his tip-toes to negate the slam. Tears sting at the corner of his eyes and when he makes to scream, it's a high-pitched squeak.

"My answer would be to fuck yourself." She calls cheerfully over her shoulder, while peering down at her flailing victim. She frowns, hearing Blondie and the other thing mingle, but refusing to look away. He'll just have to go. He's caused Blondie enough pain.

Cracking her knuckles, she sets her tongue between her teeth. Without warning (and a murmur to her own strength) she grips the thing's skull between her two hands and -squeezes-. What should be solid, at least in a small sense, gushes apart like a melon- a rather soft melon. Brain matter, blood, and skull bits pepper her jeans, shirt and face. She spits a piece off her tongue, making a face.

Then she stand to face the one attacking Blondie.

Blondie drops his fists and allows the thug to step back, whimpering as he does. He turns to face you, and then lifts his axe. If he's going to go, it'll be fighting.

She raises her fists to match the thing, stealing a glance Blondie's way. He's battered and bruised from what she can tell but otherwise okay. She'd have to make sure when they were done. Rolling one shoulder, bouncing from foot to foot.

"Oh, boyo, its on."

She goes in, hoping Blondie will jump in, but not getting her hopes up.

It raises it's axe high above its head- a flashback of just a moment ago. But this time she has a clear shot. This time, things will be different- its has to be. "You die now!" She cries.

The thing shrieks its own strange war cry.

She's two yards from it- one- one foot- she's lightning embodied. A thunderous -boom- echoes throughout the ring. Now she stands lonely behind it. Its weapon falls to the floor. A gaping hole now is it's chest, with an opening to the left side as well. A bloody mass of tissue and bone hangs from her still out-reached hand to the thing.

There's the sound of movement behind you, and Blondie appears in your vision, battered and bruised, but holding his gun and aiming it at the half-giant. "Your turn."

The half-giant cackles, cackles much like a crow would. He shakes and with each shrug of his shoulders, black feathers fall about him, much like a molting. He keeps laughing that strange laugh until there's nothing left of the man, but there stands a large raven, staring beadily at the two of you.

"So you're capable. Good to see that Thor's brutish nature can channel through even a woman." The raven cocks it's head, the British accent odd when it comes from the bird. "Come, let us break bread with Munin and the other."

"Er..." She leans to Blondie to one, see if he's as puzzled as she is, "You ever see ... that happen before?" Bone slides off her fist with a wet 'splat' to the floor, and she finally looks to her blood splattered hand. She makes a disgusted face to it, and gives it a shake to send more bits to the floor.

Blondie holsters his gun, then wipes at his mouth, spitting even more blood onto the floor. "If he's talking about Munin, then this must be Hugin." He steps closer, glancing over you. "You look like hell."

"You both do, but I needed to see if you two could stand alone against Ulfhednar. Almost thought I'd be picking at your eyeballs in the aftermath, really." Hugin stretches out his wings almost casually as he says this.

She gives the bird a once over, ignoring the fact that she looks like hell. In fact she stands proudly, as if wearing the blood is a badge of honor or a sudden fashion.

"I know I'm not the best in battle, but I do know that I would have lived through the goons at very least. So you want to have some breakfast do ya? What am I suppose about to do about this mess?"

Hugin, if that's what the Raven's called, let's out a derisive snort. "Please, you almost died if not for channeling what your father gave you. If it's one thing Thor's got, it's brawn. Now, if you please, I think Munin's waiting on us."

Blondie frowns, but looks to you. "The Ravens are Odin-All-Father's messengers. It's best if we don't ignore whatever they have to say. I'm in no state to refuse, after-all." He gestures to his leg.

She rolls her eyes. Freakin' men. She says loud enough for Hugin to hear as well. "I wasn't bloody refusing their word, I was just wondering if anything was gonna happen so I could keep my job; should I have to stay here. What is it with people?"

Hugin shakes his head in amusement. "With what we've been brought to say, there might not be a job left for you to come back to." He clicks his beak. "This way!"

"Wonderful." She mumbles, "And I was just starting to like this place too." Without looking to see if Blondie is joining them, Gabi starts after the bird, shaking more bits off her hands as if she can somehow clear it all without water. She almost runs a hand through her hair which she stops quickly. A bird of Odin's is a good thing, right? Weren't ravens always mischievous things? Or was she getting her thoughts mixed. How the hell did she not remember the two birds?

[McKitty]

Following Hugin, you wind up somewhere in the deserted industrial section of downtown. You know it's deserted because when the club has a big fight-night, they move the cages out to here so the dancers don't get suspicious.

Hugin caws, and an answering one echoes from somewhere within the darkness. "Ah, good, he's here already. We can get down to business." He hops forward in the awkward way of a bird and hails a matching large raven who is shadowed by a dark woman. "Just on time!"

"She took a bit; had to charm our way out of a Sorcerer's boudoir." Munin lands and peers up at you. "Thor's kid, eh? Well, suppose you look like a fighter."

Suppose? A glance down shows the entrails, blood, guts, and all the glory of her chance to kick ass and take names. Hell yeah she's Thor's little girl. And I'll be proving it one day. She nods respectively to Munin, then to Hugin who she completely forgot to do so to.

The shadowed woman gains her attention but only until the birds speak again. She always did hate a secret set just out of reach. Wiping the blood from her hand on her jeans, she reties her pony-tail as she waits.

Hugin flourishes his impressive wingspan as he settles in. "As each of you knows, you're Children of the Aesir. Your parents should be the ones filling you in, but Heimdall and Thor are a mite busy at the moment, and no one can get Hel to do anything that remotely requires polite conversation."

Munin nods in agreement. The dark woman scowls. "Mother's ruling the dead, I'm pretty sure it's a full-time job."

Hugin turns to her. "Exactly! Which is why the All-Father sent us here to you!"

Gabi would have thought it strange for at one to not show but then again, Titans fought dirty. Too bad though, it would have been nice to see him. Shaking clear the thoughts of her Father, she noted the two.

Heimdall, huh? Seemed to fit she supposed. How did someone put it, he was the Counter-Espionage of the Gods? Blondie did have a way to sneak about, hell snuck up on her. He was good, she'd admit. But the woman, well she'd never truly run into any Scions of Hel but then again she'd always hope to stir clear of them. Any and all stories were never pleasant. So much for that hope.

But she wore a smile no matter what she currently thought, and hoped the woman would prove herself soon enough. "What's that?"

Munin shifts his feathers. "In fact, I remember one time that we had to travel down into Helhiem to ask the Queen something to do with Njord's missing oxen, or missing axes, or was it axles...?" He shrugs. "Not a pleasant conversation, I tell you!"

Gabi chuckles, letting her hands rest on her hips. Two talking birds, one with a Brooklyn accent and the other with an English. The worlds was truly an interesting place to be. For the moment.

"I hope we don't have to bother the Queen from any of her duties. You were saying the All-Father had need of us?"

Munin coughs. "Right, right! Where was I? Oh yes!"

Hugin shares a glance with Munin. "As you three know from when your parents first visited, that the Titans have escaped. What you don't know, is that Odin has looked into the Well, and has seen the Doom of Migurd fast approaching."

Munin nods. "Much like the time where Thor used Loki's cunning to find out who stole his hammer. You know, giant's know how to throw a good party--"

Hel's daughter sighs, "that's all very well, but what does this have to do with us? We're hardly specks in the Aesir's eyes."

Munin nods in agreement. "But specks can move unseen where Gods cannot."

"But unseen to where?" Gabi asks quietly, shoving her hands into her pockets. She should have brought a jacket for some reason. The Doom of Midgard had to be much further into the future, it couldn't possible be soon. But even then, soon for Gods could be eons away. Damn all of this was making her head spin. Would it get worse if she attained Godhood? It couldn't. Loki didn't do shit and he's a god. Yeah...

Hugin clicks his beak. "Where is a good question for we do have the answer!"

Munin preens. "We also have the answer as to whom and what and why too."

Hel's child crosses her arms, her dark eyes glowing with a deep intensity. "Out with it, please?"

"There's a small mining town in northeastern California. Well, it was a small mining town--"

"Until the coal fire," Munin interjects.

"Yes, the coal-fire. Terrible tragedy. You three need to go there and make a special pick-up for us, see?"

Heimdall's son narrows his eyes. "What's the catch?"

Munin looks as affronted as any bird could be. "We're insulted. There is no catch! Just go to Bodie, pick up the Heart of Winter, and hold onto it for a little bit until we can get back to you, eh?"

Gabi bounces on the balls of her feet, soaking in the conversation just as her jeans as soaking in the cool blood. Hearth of Winter, Bodie, Northeastern California. Cali isn't a horrible place, especially the north. Staring up to the ceiling, she shrugs a shoulder.

"There's probably gonna be trouble most likely but I guess I can't really argue. But if you two are -sure- you're not leaving anything out..."

Munin glances to you with a hint of amusement. "Just like your father. Well, then! You have your mission, and I don't need to stress that it's -highly- important that you retrieve that heart as -quickly- as possible, eh?"

Oh crap this meant that she'd have to travel with Blondie and Miss I'm too cool for light. Hm. Wwwweeeellll.... craptastic. She bounces onto her heels and sighs. Nothing ever got done from working alone- sometimes anyway. One day she's be able to level mountains with a single swing like Dad, but until then...

"All right. Got it. Hey," She gives Hugin a sly, "Don't you owe us breakfast, you know, breakin' the fast and all and no food isn't actually..."

Hugin peers at her beadily, but the woman interrupts. "I have a business to run, so the sooner we catch a ride to California, which is at least a two night's drive westward, the better."

"Yeah, we should hurry. Thanks a lot you two!" She decides it best not to hug the birds and instead nods to each again. "Anyone want to volunteer their car?"

Blondie raises his hand. "I've got one that will easily handle a two-night ride through the West."

Hel's Scion frowns and pulls out a small PDA, then taps her fingers over it. "According to the paths, we should be all right if we stick to the I-15."

Blondie nods again. "The I-15 it is then. By the way, name's Conall."

She glances up, eyes you, then him, then sighs. "Belinda. Belinda Ashtoncroft."

She watches curiously when Belinda takes out the PDA, then shrugs it away. PDA had GPS now? Damn. When the two turn to her, she slips her hands from her pockets.

"Gabi Roth. Lets say we meet somewhere in an hour so me and Conall get a shower, we can all pack, and you can set things up with your business for your short absence."

Belinda nods. "Smart plan, besides, I want to research Bodie before we head out there. Divine Ravens or not, I don't trust anyone to ever ask anything without any price."

Gabi peers up in thought but nods in agreement. Hardly anyone worked for free nowadays. Except maybe a few Scions. Maybe she could change that? Bah, let them do the thinking for now. The smell of dry blood was starting to irritate her nose.

"Lets say we meet at... city hall in a hour?"

One hour and one city hall later, you stand on the steps to the building alongside Belinda, who looks a bit annoyed at the fact that Conall seems to be late. She sighs and flips open her PDA, then closes it again.

"Men, what is it with them?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Belinda amused though saying nothing of it. Instead she shrugs her shoulders, and sets her bag on the ground. "Who knows. They always complain that we take too long with clothes and talking yet they refuse to see the truth. They're ten times worse."

"I know Conall. Well, his name at any rate. Brought up in military school, served as an Army Special-Forces for eight years, and now works for D.N.C incorporation as a bodyguard for the CEO's family." She looks up the block as a BMW x5 rolls down the street. "Well, he's got taste in cars, at least."

She's rather stunned at the background, not really thinking deeply on just how well he could use a gun, but her breath is taken by the sight of such a lovely car. When it stops before her, she waits to catch her breath before even grabbing her bag.

"Yeah he really does. Wonder if he's got a Magnum too." She waves to Blondie.

Belinda picks up her own duffel bag and makes to the back even as Conall hops out of the driver's side and opens it. "What on earth were you doing?"

"Making arrangements. You're not the only one with a job to look out for." He shoves aside a black duffel, probably his own gear, then points to a well-stocked first-aid kit. "I don't think any of us has perfect medical background so I stocked up on some supplies in case the Ravens are sending us through Helhiem and back to retrieve this heart."

She glares at the car, her own clean reflection for a moment. Sure they got to keep their damn jobs, but when it came to hers did anyone even try to help clean to mess or bespell the manage to think it was someone else or anything? Hell no. It wasn't their job, so who cared?

"Fuckanay." She murmurs before tossing her bag in back with Belinda's. Would she be wanted for murder by the time she came back?