RP:In Da Club

Part of the Hour of Wolves Arc

Part of the The Dust Up In Cenril Arc

Summary: Meri and Hudson head to Frostmaw to check out why his surveillance on the red dirt dealing operations there had been tampered with to show a feed of a club and empty room. Lionel (who apparently boobytraps trash cans, fyi everyone) happens on their investigation, and they follow a clue to a warehouse. Inside is a secret night club. The trio are forced to chillax with rappers (Draque and Hudson's loquacious neighbor Kanze East) until they finally gain access to the empty room. It is of course a trap and they are attacked by thugs. Hudson and Lionel escape the scene with a clue: a tiny bronze cat idol that reminds Hudson of Tuna, the tiger cub that his associates stole from the Larket mob. Meri, meanwhile, has vanished, taken into custody by the red dirt operatives - she's put under a spell to smuggle the stuff into Frostmaw.

FeeFighFeauxFum Alley

It's just getting dark, and this is what you'd call a hot corner, insofar as red dirt dealing in Frostmaw is concerned. Hudson and Meri arrive together, having met up beforehand. Strength in numbers, and all that. They're not sure what to expect, apart from the obvious trap. On their way over, Hudson reports that the magical surveillance set up by Aaken is still working as intended as to this corner only. That is to say, of the three 'feeds' he's supposed to get, only this corner remains untampered with, the other two continue to show unknown locations: the inside of what appears to be a lively night club, and an empty room. And so they're here, the logical place to start looking for answers. Much to their surprise, the corner boys aren't here slinging red dirt as per their mandate. Maybe it's a holiday in their world. Hudson is the first to comment about the strangeness. He taps the baseball bat he'd brought as a precaution against the wall that is front and center in his surveillance feed, punctuating their comfortable silence. "K... bit alarming," he comments, his gaze fanning out to look for a rubbish bin or something that might house an explosive. There's just one garbage bin, and he peers into it. "Nothing in here," he reports to Meri, who is likely doing some reconnaissance herself. He moves some crates and casually curses off an exhale. "Maybe this is a bust," he muses. They might think to look for Aaken's apparatus, but that idea won't occur to them just yet.

Meri has arrived with Hudson as described, bundled up for warmth as she usually is when in this horrible area. Slight difference in that her thick-fur cloak has been abandoned for another cloak. This one is still black in color but far thinner, for it was not the material providing warmth but an enchantment. Thank you, Alvina, for such a lovely gift. At first glance, one might think that Meri is not actually armed like Hudson is. This would not be the case, it's just that her weaponry is tucked away out of sight, starting with the usual pair of daggers sheathed in the back of her boots. There is a slight roll of her eyes when Hudson thinks to examine the trash can, "Really..." she says in a bit of a snarky tone of voice, because who is really going to hide a trap in a damn trash can? While Hudson is tapping walls and looking in trash cans, Meri's blue eyes are surveying the area from alley way to roof top because yes, it is a bit alarming that those corner boys are no where within sight. "We just got here, be patient," comes her response to his being a bust. The surveillance system set up by Aaken will eventually earn the brunt of Meri's stare.

Lionel has become one with the slate grey walls. Previously, he was a shade of orange fit to trump the setting sun, and before that he was bluer than three-man group of aquamarine face-painted foreign elves that passed him. Whatever color the world has turned, he's matched it pace-for-pace, thanks to a hue-shifting cloak procured from an exuberant merchant off the coast of Roya'trev'glek'tha'lon'gri. (The island's original name, 'Island', was ultimately deemed far too plain for its newfound vampiric overlords.) The most remarkable thing about Lionel's cloak is that he can tap himself on the shoulder and it will turn a simple teal, and upon espying Meri about a half a block due south, this is exactly what Lionel does. Quickly, he checks the trash can; it seems someone has absconded with the trap he'd placed! Who would think to steal a man's trashcan trap? It's well and true and just and normal to place a trap in a trashcan, mind you. But to pilfer it? These are no ordinary brigands. "Really...?" He shakes his head, sighing melodramatically. He's pretty much right there in the open now, for Meri and her baseball hall-of-fame escort to notice.

Hudson is starting to build momentum insofar as muttering curses is concerned, it's not unlike that scene in the Wire with the two detectives solving a murder together. Where the heck is Aaken's surveillance apparatus even set up? He tries to recall, no doubt Meri's looking for same. He notes her skepticism about looking in rubbish bins but his response is to shrug. "Don't give me that look, trash can bombs are a thing," he tells her. He looks her way and, following her gaze, notes that she's identified the metal orb that no doubt makes it all happen, i.e., the live streaming coverage! of this corner's activity. He, very thoughtfully, breathes another curse word, much in the manner of someone gently saying 'hallelujah.' Of course, it's at this moment that the sound of footsteps interrupts their investigation, and, hand tensing around his bat Hudson glances down the alley to see not random corner boys about to jump them, but, of all people, Lionel. Hudson straightens off a slow exhale, looks beleaguered. Like he just got busted skipping school or something. "This guy...... Maybe he knows why the street guys aren't here today," he mutters, for Meri's benefit alone, and with that he lets her greet and confer with Lionel as necessary. He moves the non-bomb-containing garbage bin so as to use it as a step ladder, and spends the hot second necessary to jerk the metal orb free from its place against the wall. Whatever, he's paid for it, he can break it. It takes some effort to pry the thing free, and the momentum of it causes Hudson to lose his balance on the trash bin. It makes a loud noise, spews trash everywhere, though he lands on his feet. Curses again. A piece of paper, evidently pinned to the wall by the orb, flutters to land halfway between Meri and Lionel.

Meri spares Lionel a glance and a nod, the man still not earning the warmest greetings from the woman. Plenty of others actually managed to elicit a smile and an actual hello. It could be that Lionel and Meri always seem to encounter one another in more 'down to business' like settings, as is the case now. Confering with Lionel would not be something that happens immediately. Both Hudson and Lionel are all but ignored, actually, as booted feet trudge through the snow, to bring her closer to Aaken's device. She's cut short in her endeavors for a closer inspection of the device when Hudson knocks the device off the wall with his bat, in what Meri presumes to be a bid to blow off some frustration. Hudson disposes of the equipment he purchased while Meri's baby blues trail after the note, picking it up between two fingers. Meri gets to read the note first, the contents of said note are met with a bit of an unimpressed hmph. "It's an address," she says, blue eyes coming to rest on Hudson as she holds said note out for him or Lionel to take from her and inspect for themselves. "Which probably means that we should go and check it out." Actually smart people would probably not go to the address written down on a mysterious note left in a tampered with contraption. Fine, Hudson, Meri will confer with Lionel to some extent. Hopefully in vague enough detail for Hudson's liking. "We're, uh, trying to snoop around and figure out where this red dust is coming from. You know maybe they have some answers as to who is behind that whole attack on that celebration..."

Lionel has no idea what's going on, and if he harbors any interest in the note, he's doing an admirable job of hiding it. So he doesn't bother reading it -- not at first. When Meri offers up her explanation, however, there's a flicker of recognition on the Catalian's face. "It seems we're here for similar purposes," he says, and now he'll peer over that note. As he examines it, a pair of thick dwarves with matching oversized trousers -- and not much else -- traipse on by, then scavenge a few trinkets from the scattered trash seemingly without a spare worry for what the other folk here might think of their habits. "Oi, at least there's this canvas," the first one notes, but the second one scoffs. "It ain't a canvas. It be a portrait." The first one cants his head. "How it gonna be a portrait of nobody at all? That be a canvas, because it ain't a person." The second one scratches behind his ear, then flicks some wax to the street. "Uh, no, it don't have to be a person to be a portrait, see. You can portraitize anything, like a landscape, an', an', or like a carriage or whatnot." The first one burps, slings the painting over his bare back (it's actually a mosaic, for the record) and the dwarves scurry on past Lionel and Meri without so much as a glance. Lionel watches them fade into the distance, then bites his lip softly. "Methinks I'll tag along for that venture, then."

Hudson had landed on his feet, as stated, but he has also stepped in what appears to be a large amount of used, clumping kitty litter. He curses, again, just to keep the trend alive, and also because now his left foot undoubtedly smells like cat piss. Seeing that Meri's got the note, which is of interest to him of course, he dumps his surveillance orb and moves over to where she and Lionel are lurking. The dwarves who are now rooting through the trash that Hudson has unleashed give him a funny look as they pass, and Hudson rolls his eyes. "Fell into some kitty litter," he gestures at his left foot. In case that odor was not recognizable enough. Hudson reads the note over Meri's shoulder, yeah, that'll be on the outskirts of town. He has a lot of feelings about Lionel, none of them are particularly positive, but Lionel's inviting himself to their investigation is fine. Maybe not a bad idea. This is business, he can set aside his Alvina-related posturing for a second (...sort of). "Right," says Hudson, glancing down the alley, "well, we should uh, go the place." He looks down at his foot and sighs, wonders how obviously he'll smell like cat piss at their future venue. Presumably the group doesn't linger, they set off in the direction of the outskirts of town. It's cold, and maybe also awkward now because there isn't a lot of talk. Hudson is wondering why Meri, Group Female, isn't immediately making conversation to diffuse the weirdness. Hudson is also wondering if Lionel is feeling just as awkward as he is, he has no idea what Alvina told the guy while they split up, holy Sven, this is awkward. After a point, Hudson decides that he's going to try to play it cool and not seem like he's still salty, and he says: "I don't really know Frostmaw all that well but I thought that area was pretty much deserted."

Da Club

Meri thankfully is no mind reader because the number of times she would have tried to shoulder-punch Hudson for some of those thoughts trolling through his mind? Group female? What? How is it she has to be the talker as group female? Ah well, this is a trade because Meri's own thoughts about Hudson are probably just as offensive right now. What the heck is it with this guy and fecal matter? Do we recall that time his MOM interrupted a party so that she could make him solve the issues with her clogged toilet? What the heck Hudson? And then there is Lionel, who Meri honestly does not know all that much about including any involvement with Alvina. Of course this means Meri needs to talk about Alvina, right? "You know, usually I really hate being up here and what not but the last time I came up into this area? I ran into this really nice woman. Her name is Alvina." There is a grin spared for Hudson, one might think it mischievous but sorry Hudson, she is mostly clueless as to what she is doing here. "Total stranger to me, bought me this really nice enchanted cloak. She's kind of amazing." With paper still clutched within hand, the trio makes their way to the outskirts of Frostmaw while Meri has this little ramble that may only potentially make things even more awkward between the two men. They would not be given the chance to really embrace this topic much for Meri abruptly halts outside of what looks to be a rundown warehouse, rather hideous looking with broken windows and all. Just what one might expect from any building left abandoned and in disuse for too long.

Lionel is an exceptional student of self-deception. In a few more years, he may even become a preeminent master of the trade. It is this self-same, self-motivated, tragic little song-and-dance which has kept him miraculously sane through the chaotically convoluted currents of his life. In layman's terms, Lionel O'Connor has gone and fooled himself into leaving the tough stuff in a neat little compartmentalized box somewhere beyond the reach of his everyday thought processes. Perhaps this is still not 'layman' enough. Let us simply say the chatter revolving around Alvina has no discernible impact on the man. Neither Hudson's discomfort nor Meri's unwitting verbal wound-lemoning seems to change Lionel's demeanor in the slightest. "Pretty sure I know her," he comments idly, nodding just a bit. "Can't be too many Alvinas in Lithrydel. Strange thing, that -- you rarely find the same name twice in this realm. It's like one person's born with a timeless name like Arnatuile or Yukiko or, like, Metaldragon, and no one else ever dares repeat it. Then again, who can blame them on that last one..." He coughs awkwardly, but doesn't so much as glance toward Hudson. It doesn't seem like this awkward cough has anything to do with Alvina. It's just a cough, made awkwardly. "This warehouse has seen better days. Most have, I suppose. Another trend." Perhaps Lionel is the Group Female, as it were.

Hudson thinks, or maybe it's just the effect of the cold air, that the cat piss situation is not as dire as it could be. Some consolation. Finally Meri picks up the mantle of Group Female responsible for diffusing awkwardness, and she contributes by talking about Alvina of all people. Great, thx. Hudson assumes actually that Meri is telling this story because Alvina had told her that they're together, and lol, etcetera. He chuckles a bit awkwardly, as Lionel decides to respond first by making this awkward yet hilarious observation about names in the realm. "Yeeeah, Metaldragon doesn't exactly roll off the tongue," Hudson observes dryly, glancing at Lionel. He likewise shares the same opinion about the warehouse. What a dump. "Well, glad to know Alvina's pimping out my friends," comments Hudson, distractedly. He puts his ear to the door. Silence. "I feel like we're gonna get jumped in here," he says, looking at the two of them. "Be ready, I'm gonna open the door." And he does. And it's... not at all a ramshackle warehouse on the inside. Before they can even process what's going on here, there's a bouncer moving them inside, got to keep the entrance clear. So they join a moving river of people heading... straight to hell. It's a night club. This place has some magical enchantment on it to keep it under wraps, that's for sure. The inside is illuminated in strobing lights, there's a live band and a dance floor packed with bodies. Twenty two year old girls in hotgirl dresses grinding on guys in shiny shirts with big collars, everyone holding drinks, spilling drinks. Holy s the music is loud, Hudson wants to kill himself already, this is like ... how even does this place exist on the sly without it being shut down for being offensive to society. Law enforcement/Lionel should probably shutter it so it doesn't exist by the time his daughters are Of Age. (OK, those are Old Man Hudson's thoughts today, but like, three years ago he would have been all up in here throwing shapes and meeting hot babes.) "What the hell?" he has to pretty much shout at Meri and Lionel. "Ugh! Something smells like cat piss!" says a woman to her friend, nearby. Gods damnit. They're being pushed by the sea of people, and somehow manage to break off into an eddy that appears to be somewhat less packed as it's not for dancing, more like for lounging very expensively. It has couches and buckets of ice with drinks in them. Hudson turns to talk to Meri and Lionel but he's immediately besieged by a guy wearing gold chains. It's famous bard Draque! He performed at Literal Queen Josleen's wedding! "Hudsonnnnnnnn my maaaaan, come sit with us! Bring your friends!" Yes, of course, Hudson, drug dealer, knows some rappers. Draque is waving to another man, who jogs over to them. Hudson's face says everything: NOOOO IT'S HIS NEIGHBOR KANZE EAST. "Yo 'Ze, it's your neighbor!" Hudson is clapped into a hug. "Yo, whassup man, we didn't get to finish our conversation the other day." Yes, because Hudson had invented an excuse to escape said conversation, which was about Kanze East's foray into fashion and what constitutes 'real art' and had started to resemble a stream of consciousness rant after a point. They are surrounded by the rappers' posse and being herded toward their VIP section. The rappers are introducing themselves to Meri and Lionel, making noises about breaking out at a J. Well, this is life now.

Meri had no place or business within the club. She was not one of those ladies who would slink around in some skimpy dress, but anyone who has spent any amount of time with Meri would be easily be able to vouch for that. While to some extent Meri did anticipate that they would end up in this very club, just as she and Hudson already anticipated that locating said club would probably lead them getting jumped. Does that stop a single person in this bunch? Probably not. Hudson goes inside, Meri goes inside, we can only assume that Lionel follows. Out of all the things Lionel has faced, surely he would not back out of going into a social setting such as a club? At least one of those young hot babes is going to make a pass at Lionel before the trio is absconded and lead to the VIP section. It's going to be a very tacky and tasteless pass too, that includes her basically trying to grab and grind. Look it is a club, this is appropriate social behavior. Meri isn't even going to bother trying to shout back at Hudson over the music, same with Lionel, she would just follow along and be lead to that VIP section. Too bad, missed chance make fun of Hudson for that cat piss moment. How embarrassing for him! If a seat was to be offered, she would not be declining. Be cool, play it cool, but stay on guard.

Lionel once put a foxy mask on and masqueraded at a masquerade in pursuit of a serial killer. He once got a bronze trophy in an equestrian racing competition whilst simultaneously dueling a trio of demonic thieves. He once failed miserably at a dance-off to the tempo of an out-of-tune ukulele because he thought for sure a band of slavers had arranged the whole thing to catch athletic new prey. (He was mistaken, and ultimately felt quite terrible for profiling the gypsies as slavers. It caused a philosophical awakening in Lionel.) Basically, he's seen all sorts of things. But he's never been to a club. This is outrageous, and he's wincing, and canting his jaw politely, and when a woman insists he dance with her, the motions Lionel's body makes are merely evasive. A calm slither wayward takes Lionel closer to Meri, whereby the young woman scoffs and rolls her eyes at the perceived completion, crossing her arms and prancing off haughtily. Lionel is none the wiser; he's just glad to be elsewhere, but damn, is this music loud. And bad. And it's elevating his heart rate. Why is it elevating Lionel's heart rate? A mystical tension now pumps through his veins: no, not the sort of supernatural tomfrakkery you're liable to hear about on the regular here in Lithrydel. It isn't granting him the ability to fly, or to transform into an ancient abyssal wyrm, or to produce and then systematically discard hundreds of children, or to launch a powerful clan and then lazily pretend he's too busy for maintenance. The tension is not tribal or godly or in nay way compelling. Lionel O'Connor is experiencing a mild anxiety attack. His vision blurs and he grabs a glass of ice water from a passing waiter. Wait, that's no waiter. There are no waiters in a hot mess like this. That was a shirtless woman with carnal intent to douse her ample bosom in H2O. She growls at his transgression; uncertain how to proceed, Lionel growls back, and, like a lion, it seems to dissuade her from further challenge. The woman's breasts nearly knock numerous patrons aside as she storms off, almost half as dissatisfied as the one Meri unknowingly scared off. Lionel's anxiety subsides, and he shakes his head and thinks happy thoughts.

Hudson wonders if Lionel is going to have a stroke. It's a relief when they are all seated. He and Lionel are somehow stuck sitting next to Kanze. Draque of course has surrounded himself with All The Women, including Meri, somehow. (Dude, she was their Group Female? You can't just ninja her?) Someone has put tumblers of alcohol in their hands, and there's definitely a smokeable item being passed around. Hudson has a little of it, passes to Lionel because Lionel's sitting next to him and it's the polite thing to do/now his problem. The smoke from said smokeable mingles with the smell of cat piss, it's... weird. Kanze of course has wasted little time in launching into a monologue about art and his political aspirations and how his wife is ALSO art. (She became famous, you'll all recall, when her illustrated nudes were leaked to a magazine.) Hudson is thinking: HAH Lionel has to suffer through this with me now. (Lionel is possibly in a catatonic state, tho.) Hudson is waiting for a moment to ask about the guy who owns this place, at the very least, these rappers seem to have the hook up. A drunk woman tries to use Hudson's lap for a chair, and he tells her NO like she's an animal getting into something. She then proceeds to try to sit on Lionel, because whatever. Kanze is now on the topic of witch oppression in Larket, and saying, "I liberate minds with my music. That's more important than liberating a few witches, or whatever. I am the Gods' vessel. But my greatest pain in life is that I will never be able to see myself perform live." Hudson, since they are neighbors, is now accustomed to looking like he's listening attentively to Kanze. Except now Kanze is looking at them like they need to respond. "Alvina and Kam seem to be getting along pretty well," Hudson offers. Alvina thinks Kam is really crazy. He looks over at where Meri is sitting, Draque is holding an informal twerking contest or something, .. why again are he and Lionel stuck listening to Kanze ramble about himself? Kanze is also looking in that direction, gazing in admiration, really. "Do you know of like a secret back room at this place? We're trying to find one?" Hudson asks, seizing the moment/distraction to keep this all on topic. Someone passes him the 'herbal cigarette.' He smokes some of it. He passes it again to Lionel, and then tries to make eye contact with Meri so that she doesn't like, get permanently distracted and incapacitated from the mission by Draque's beard or something. "If I was just a fan of music I would think that I was the number one artist in the world," says Kanze. GODS DAMN- "Yeah I know a guy, maybe." He waves over one of the men in black, undoubtedly a bouncer, lining the perimeter.

Meri probably would have pushed Lionel back into the first woman, the one that she unwittingly ran off, were she more aware of the situation. Why? It is the opinion of one other Catalian that Meri is a she-devil, which in itself should be justification enough? It is a good thing that those blue eyes are actually focused on Hudson and not Lionel, at least during that stretch of time. Somehow Meri, despite her endeavors to stay with both Lionel and Hudson, because - duh - they have already discussed the possibility that they are going to get jumped. Somehow. Meri ends up being herded away from the rest of the group. Draque is definitely to blame for this, for he is the one who decided it would be a good idea to grab the blonde from the trio and offer her a seat near him. What with Meri trying to play it cool. Poor Hudson and Lionel have to suffer through Kanze, smokeables, and the woman who seems intent on being in someone's lap. Meri? She is kind of whatever about the twerking contest going on in front of where she is seated. Draque probably tries to talk her into this, but nope. Not happening. Either way, as a tattoo artist, seeing someone shake their rump is really not something that really makes her all that uncomfortable. I mean...the body was a pretty normal thing as far as she was concerned as she saw skin on a regular basis. If substances are being passed around near Meri, the woman does her best to wave it off, she even babysits the drink that is poured for her. Inebriated psions? Eh. Sometimes she makes the effort. Hudson's hope that she is not going to end up distracted is not misplaced, it is not Draque's beard that has her attention but the bouncer on the perimeter that Kanze ends up gesturing too.

Lionel casually accepts the peculiar product and takes an unpracticed puff. It appears to have little effect on the man. There's a reason for this -- there always is with these things -- but it's irrelevant to the current goings-on, and not something Lionel will discuss with literally anyone, anyway. Yes, there is a beautiful, dark fantasy mystery surrounding Lionel's high tolerance for inhalation, but watch this throne, because Yeezus, you'd have better luck pulling your own teeth than getting this guy to genuinely open up about himself. So the pipe is passed, if indeed it is a pipe, or perhaps it's been rolled, like gold, or maybe it's a leaflet of good vibes. Whatever the case may be, Lionel winds up holding it a second time, and again, his puffing technique leads much to be desired but his mental and physical state appears completely unclouded. All the better, then, because soon enough a lass with legs that could kill -- and perhaps have killed -- is trying her damnedest to seat her posterior upon this Catalian anterior. "Yeah, uh, thanks but no thanks," Lionel whispers too close to her ear, causing her to fix him with the most uninspired and clearly choreographed moan since Lisa. "What the heck?" The woman's sigh could melt ice. She settles for a fellow with a forty-nine inch chiseled chest, immediately reverting to her theatrical sexuality. These are the worst-paid wenches an overhyped and underachieving musician could have possibly employed, and this club is the most thinly-veiled brothel of them all.

Hudson and Lionel's attentiveness to Another Kanze Monologue pays off now, as Kanze asks the bouncer about a back room, and the bouncer nods, gestures that those inquiring stand. Hudson stands, gestures that Lionel and Meri come with. "We'll be right back," he says to Kanze, feeling a chill as he says those words. Hudson smokes a lot to deal with the symptoms/onset of werewolf rage, but he's not presently raging so he's just regular stoned, i.e., his eyes more red than the devil is, he's starting to see the world one frame at a time, like a movie reel slowly being unspooled. This becomes apparent as the bouncer leads them around the perimeter of the place to a dark hallway with flickering lights. (Why have flickering lights if you can have magic? Seriously?) They're led into an empty room, and Hudson immediately elbows Meri in a manner that's meant to convey IT'S THE ROOM!!!!!! "One second, guys," says the bouncer, and then he doesn't leave, but the lights die, and something cold and sharp tears into Hudson's back from behind, close to his armpit. "Hey!" exclaims Hudson, throwing his body against his attacker. The guy grunts and backs into a book case, hits his head, but then advances again. Hudson swings his bat and it connects with the guy's skull, rings him like a bell, he hits the floor. Hudson's wound smarts, but it hadn't been a silver knife. There's a lot of movement in the hall now, everyone's eyes are adjusting to the darkness. "Move away from the doors," Hudson has got a leg up in terms of seeing right now because he's a werewolf. He pulls Meri in particular away from the entrance, just moments before a series of crossbow bolts clear the space. A smallish group of five or so men, thugs, storm the room. They're not so many that their trio would be overwhelmed, but everything after that happens really fast.

Meri understands, Hudson! It is the room! Easy with the elbow! At least that is what Meri is trying to communicate with the look that she levels on Hudson. It's not a look that lingers, her attention soon jerking back to the bouncer that leads them down the hallway. They soon find themselves in 'the room', something that Meri and Hudson are more familiar with than Lionel, who was swept along for the ride. Now, Lionel has fought with Meri a few times. Five men, even in the cover of darkness, should really be nothing for this trio to sweat. It was just five average thugs right? Meri was just about to try and enter the thick of the fray when Hudson jerks her out of the path of several bolts loosed from a crossbow, that Meri probably would have been able to deal with as a psion, if she had been given the chance. But being jerked out of the way is enough to distract the mind from being able to focus on anything. What happens after Meri is pulled out of the way? That will be a mystery to both Lionel and Hudson. Men enter, they are probably dealt with, but Meri will not be a contributor in any shape or form to this battle...because...what in the heck happened to Meri? I mean, hopefully Lionel and Hudson will have the decency to notice that Group Female is MIA when all is said and done. Oh no.

Lionel doesn't have Hellfire, and without Hellfire his battle options are limited. Limited is fine, so long as he's got a nice trusty katana or a rapier or at least a sturdy palm frond. All Lionel's got is a pair of knives, but blades aren't his goalpost, anyway. In a dimly-lit room, Lionel is darkness. No, not literally. We've got enough walking cliches in this hollow game called life. Lionel has become proverbial darkness, his movements swift and decisive, and his color-changing cloak has proven handier than any simple sword. The dim environs cater to an obsidian weave upon that cloak, and his left fist rises in a painful uppercut which throws a man unconscious against the wall. In another flash, the Catalian is upon someone else, a sweeping kick to trip followed with gusto as his shoulder grazes the sob story squarely in the cheekbone. As eyes adjust, so too does Lionel's cloak. It's fuchsia, then reddish, then a pale blue, matching the subtle shifts in visibility. Lionel climbs a stack of crates with the skill and grace of an accomplished platformer, then charges his little body straight into the bowmen, knocking them down like pins, and a knuckled fist beats them half to a pulp. In this moment, the man seems more demon than hero. The moment does not linger. A few stray things remain, but Lionel strafes and evades them almost as overtly as if they were wanton women. "Hudson, Meri's gone." His words carry a chill of irritation as he slams open the door and searches.

Hudson isn't exactly keeping a careful attendance of the three of them - why would be necessary, there are just three of them? Lionel is moving with far more grace and training than Hudson is. Hudson is pretty hamfisted in how he takes on guys. It's a two step process. Step one: swing bat at stomach. Step two: swing bat at head, repeat if necessary. It's a pretty good melee weapon, it gives him a little reach. He and Lionel trade targets a few times, as the men seem vacillate between whether they'd like to go after the more technically precise Lionel or Hudson of the baseball bat. Hudson doesn't make the Red Viper's mistake, he gives a few guys lying prostrate a bat to the face to ensure they're down for good. By the time they're done, the floor's a slippery mess. His awareness returns to him, it had been seized by the adrenaline and the Wolf, a little. His skin is on fire, there'd been a predatory gleam in the way he'd confirmed the kills just then, like he'd enjoyed it. He realizes, as Lionel speaks, he hasn't been thinking in more than just flashes of violent thought. He looks at Lionel like Lionel's speaking in the Charlie Brown people language. Wanh wanh wanh. But the words slowly permeate Hudson's understanding. "F-----" he likewise is out in the hall, starting to search, the lights are still flickering (just why, though?). Hudson, in his present state, can feel the pulse of the music in the floorboards beneath their feet. "Meri," he calls out, ranging around the area but remaining relatively close to Lionel because gods forbid backup show. "She can .. do things," he says to Lionel, which is his best guess at what might have happened. She vanished, psion style. If that's even a thing. "She must have gone back into the club somehow. Meri!"

Lionel has tangled and tangoed right alongside Meri enough times now not to need clarification from Hudson. "She can do things," he breathes in reply, taking a spare moment in the wake of his companion's explanation to search the pockets of the fallen. He finds an ornate lucky bronze cat idol in one man's pocket -- fat lot of good it did him -- and a two-ounce ball of lint in someone else's. Two ounces might not sound like much, but you have to figure, it takes a lot of lint to tip a scale so much. A third pocket features a crudely-drawn symbol of sacred knowledge -- the bakery in Cenril. "Hey, I know that place," Lionel mutters despite himself. "Wonder if Penelope is back there?" He doesn't bother registering how weird it is that someone would draw it on a folded-up old napkin. Maybe the poor lout was an aspiring artist before he got fatally slugged by Hudson's home run. That's what you get for picking the losing side. It is entirely seemly that Lionel may have unearthed something far more valuable than all this -- even the lint -- if the narrative demands it so. But Lionel will not know until Hudson's next post. For now, the man charges back into the funky non-magical lightshow in search of Meri.

Hudson thinks Lionel is on to something and likewise begins searching pockets, splitting up the corpses so they check everything. Man, Hudson's a little horrified by the caved-in faces of these guys. They probably have families and daughters and... That feeling that he's a motherf- monster makes itself at home. For his part, Hudson finds nothing of note - a receipt for some porn (who gets a receipt for that...... honestly that's maybe sociopath status). He rejoins Lionel in the hall. "She must have done A Thing," he opines, because honestly what else? They killed everyone. All the more reason to blow this popsicle stand. "Let's get out of here." Yeah, that won't be a little obvious if they just try to squeeze through da club out there. Hudson's got blood splatter on his coat, he still smells faintly of cat piss. If he knows something about crappy hallways, though, he knows that they usually come with an exit to the outdoors. He and Lionel seem to be unspoken agreement about trying that first, probably due to blood splatter reasons. There is in fact an exit, and they're outside and Hudson dumps his coat in the hall before they go. They've got to put some distance between them and this place. Incredible, it looks completely like an abandoned warehouse on the outside. "I think she'd probably try to meet us back at the corner," he says to Lionel, although that guy's probably thinking the same thing. It's a little cold without his coat, and his pants aren't looking exactly great, he realizes. That had been a little hare-brained. "What did you find in the pockets?" he asks. "I just found a receipt." Assuming Lionel provides an inventory, Hudson asks to see the little cat idol. "It's a tiny tiger," he observes, stopping to hand the thing back. He's thinking of Tuna, now quite large, the once-tiny tiger that he and his confederates had rescued from a certain deli in Larket, right before they'd blown it to pieces. "Those guys are or know the Larket mob," his words, visible in the air, stir a chill.

Lionel doesn't feel intense cold, because watch out everybody, we've got a badass over here. Actually, it's thanks to Halycanos, the Ishaarite spirit of fire which pulses within him, but sentences like these can be taken as innuendo -- or worse, read with a straight face -- so let's just call Lionel a badass instead. "Larket," Lionel repeats. All at once, a dozen horrific images of the brief, bloody, one-night Frostmaw-Larket War flare up in his mind's eye. A war Lionel believes Macon started, but there will always be the outside chance that he accidentally started it himself. Pain is evident on his angular features, but he wipes it away with a forced smile. "It always goes back to Larket." He sighs. The queen will not be pleased, but she might not be surprised, either. "Then again, these guys might be small-time. Taking orders. Not questioning them. Ah, I apologize. Just thinking out loud, here. I've gotta find Meri. And a couple of other people, too, for that matter." Lionel is bad at goodbyes. Really, this whole spoken language thing is a tough sell for the poor guy. "Catch you on the flip side, yeah? Let's reconvene very soon."

Somewhere, in Frostmaw

Meri would come to to learn that she's blindfolded and in restraints. The effects of a strong soporific are wearing off of her. There's a conversation happening around her.

"She's got the tattoo so have her deliver the next shipment in zombie mode, then turn her off," says a man's voice, a tenor. "The others escaped?"

"They did, killed a bunch of your guys." The other man's voice is gruff, deeper.

"Did we get eyes on them?"

"Two guys? Everyone's dead so not much more specific than that."

"So we still don't know who's spying on us."

"Nope."

"She's starting to wake up, have one of your men knock her out with the tattoo again. Let's get it done."

Meri was stirring indeed, but it was not in the way that would fully allow her to register the voices. There was a lot to process in this stirring. Why could she not move? Why could she not see? Where in the heck was she? What was the last thing that she remembered...A club. These thoughts are not shot off in rapid fire, they rise in her mind with delay. Before she has a chance to actually become coherent enough to start formulating answers to these dazed questions, it seems her kidnappers are quite intent on using a certain tattoo against her. How else would they have gotten the better of her? A dark room is not enough to render Meri useless so easily and allow her to be taken without fuss or fight. So once again the magic of the tattoo is employed against her to put her back into an unconscious state, or at the very least it seems to quiet her stirring movements. It is unclear. It is additionally unclear as to if using the tattoo against her in this way is a painful experience for her or not. It seems like not, for she is hardly making a sound, but chances are no one in this room cares one way or another. Just some dame that will be the means to them making a bit more gold, hm?

Meri would hear the sound of people moving in her direction, and then all would roll into the black for her. It's unclear what triggers this disassociation from her present self, but she wouldn't be the Meri she knows herself to be anymore. She'd be a husk of a person, whose utility right now is the absorption of an itinerary. She's unbound and unblindfolded, and shown a map with markers for a warehouse in Larket where she'll make her pick up, driving a horse-drawn caravan that outwardly appears to be packed with salt, the kind that melts snow. A sensible import for Frostmaw, and a handy way to smuggle in red dirt, which people at her destination would cut with black ice to make ice spice.