These days the buck stops nowhere, no one takes the blame, but evil is still evil in anybody's name.

[nothingsodivine]

Des is out on the streets, putting the finishing touches on some research for Project Nephilim Rescue, mostly because spending more time in the house with Cy the Naked Cat-Girl Wonder was bound to make him want to punch a wall and he most pointedly did not tell any of the other residents that there might be a naked girl making a mess of their

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[cleverblasphemy]

In the park, lurking in bushes and more than normally hungry, there's a ghoul.

This area gets less traffic than some, which, while decreasing the chance that he'll be interrupted, also makes it take much longer to find a meal.

Fortunately, here's someone walking by. They always come, eventually.

He waits, watching the upcoming Eli until he's on the part of path nearest him, then launches himself over the bushes, landing next to him and seizing him in an embrace. Not to open himself up, the abstract maw which allows him to consume souls, and...

Nothing.

That hasn't happened in a while. The last time he was unable to draw a soul from a living being was-

Nosgoth.

He releases Eli, skittering back a few paces and readying his claws. Some creatures bind their souls more dearly than others, but all are accessible once releasted from their corporeal moorings.

"Vampire!"

[nosparkofhope]

Eli? Is a preacher, a man of God (or a god or whatever), and while he was a soldier in his youth, he hasn't really quite embraced those sort of reflexes in a long while and even being a vampire, he doesn't make it a point to make use of them and what they say about if you don't use, you lose is true even for supernaturals to some degree. This basically amounts to him not sensing the impending attack and, given that he's relatively weak, not being able to break free until his attacker releases him of his own volition

[cleverblasphemy]

"So. Not one of the wretches from my own time, though I could have divined that from the fact that you walk around clad," Raziel says, and it's an odd mix of disdain, arrogance, amusement and anger that flavors his tone. "Tell me, vampire, what bloodline turned you? Is there a Kain in this world who has laid my path to lead me here? What master has orchestrated by abduction to this land?"

Humans may think they know the workings of the universe, but the vampiric mind is more elevated, longer-lived. If there is some secret machination controlling his destinies here, Raziel would look to vampires to learn it.

[nosparkofhope]

"Not in the slightest," Eli's tone is merely dry, expressionless. While he doesn't believe that any wanderer is inherently good or evil, he also doesn't believe that they're all not dangerous. They're simply the Chosen People and even being Chosen doesn't make them less of a threat, especially when they've lost their way.. In more ways than one, of course

[nowinprint]

Dmitri has found a patch of sidewalk that no one's bothered to clear of ice and, to all appearances, is doing a little softshoe on it. This may or may not be an agility exercise prescribed by one of the local archangels. Or possibly it's just Dmitri enjoying the weather. Sometimes, it's hard to tell.

She notices Des coming out from behind a corner and takes a hop-skid almost right into him, tagging him on the elbow. "I turn into a bird," she says, because hellos and lead-ins are for the weak. "Not, like, British slang grass is something you smoke birds, but bird bird. Corvus corax, you know, the kind they have a problem with carrying off housecats in Alaska. I'm on the fence between thinking that's kinda cool actually and wondering why I have to turn into anything. Also, for all that the syrinx is a wonderful thing, saying Pretty Polly wants a carrion is not as easy as advertised."

[nothingsodivine]

Hellos and lead-ins are about as overrated to Des as they are to Dmitri, so he just grins and and shoves his hands in his pocket. "Hey, if you ever want a cat to carry off as an experiment in bird social activities or whatever, I got one come through the Rift in my house and not only does it talk, it's crazy, turns into something that might eat my face, and is currently a naked girl all over my living room."

And that's the summary of Des's week!

And then he adds, rather expertly. "And the answer to why you have to turn into anything is because the Doctor was dumb. That is all the answer anyone will ever need for most things."

He loves the Doctor. Really.

[nowinprint]

"One day maybe we'll get an answer as to why the Doctor is dumb," Dmitri says. "You know, the same day we reverse the Rift and turn the Mojave into viable cropland the likes of which would stun the Fertile Cresent. One of those days. You have crazy cat-girls in your living room?"

This sounds like a story she should hear.

[nothingsodivine]

"Thank you for not saying 'when pigs fly,'" Des mutters under his breath. He has a complex, dammit, and an irrational fear. He returns to normal speaking level and says, with something akin to a pained grimace, "Yeah, because I draw crazy like a soldier draws fire, apparently. Given all the shapeshifting going on in this damn city, it was only a matter of time before we started getting real-live sentient, talking animals too, but I would have wanted my first meeting with one of 'em to be a little less crazy and not involve them turning into naked girls. I have a feeling that Maria's going to insist we keep her as a pet, never mind that... Well, she's a sentient cat that turns into a human and that seems sketchy somehow."

And Cy might have serious protestations about that.

[deliciouslies]

Elsewhere in the Kashtta, a somewhat insectlike robot is scrabbling through ventilation shafts in a decidedly cliche manner. It took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in here, so when its optical sensors register light coming through a grate, it heads straight for the exit and rapidly unscrews the cover, emerging in the CCTV room.

Oh look, a person! The bugbot is slightly more advanced than the previous little robot, but the objectives are basically the same. Except for Avoid Toshiko. Mother doesn't know exactly what happened to her previous child, but she's willing to calculate the odds on that human being behind it somehow.

This person is not Toshiko. Not unless humans can extensively modify their appearances. Therefore, it is safe to approach and try to figure out what exactly this human is doing. Mother likes data.

[akablackkitty]

Marshall looks up from his extensive prodding when he hears the sound of the grate being removed and when looking around the room yields no results, he looks down and... O hai.

He stares for a moment, blinks a few times, and then says, "...Hi, little... Robot-thing."

Yes, Marshall is so articulate.

[deliciouslies]

The bugbot stares up at him, then skitters closer like a wary stray. It keeps equal attention on both his face and whatever he's working on, recording every little detail in its databanks, curious.

"?" It's more of a chittering noise, but the questioning tone comes across loud and clear. Bugbot wants to know what you're doing, Marshall.

[akablackkitty]

Marshall looks at the robot, looks at his... Thing, and then looks back down at the robot. "This? This is... I'm actually not sure what it is. Apparently, I made it." He pauses and then shrugs, chuckling a little. "Well, I didn't make it, a version of me in an alternate universe made it, which... Means I should be able to figure out what it is, but, um... I haven't really... Gotten that far yet. Leave it me to make things complicated, huh?"

....And he's going to babble at a mysterious robot that came out of the ether, because that's totally the smart thing to do here.

And apparently that hits him because he looks down again and just stares at the robot for a few moments. "...Hey, so.. where did you come from?"

[allmydiredreams]

Acquiring bus fare is not as hard as it might seem for someone who has, in the past, been homeless by choice and by circumstance. So Babel's back in Chicago proper, and has, in fact, just made her way out of the Lady of the Lake chocolatier that Malek mentioned. So she's got sipping chocolate.

And is happily slurping away at that (because who cares whether it's got 'sipping' in the name?) when she falls into step with Des. No, she's not going to say anything -- chocolate takes priority over words in the 'how to use mouth' category -- but she's going to walk alongside him for a bit as if they were old friends or something.

Sorry if you didn't want any more crazy, Des. At least Babel is slightly less nonsensical than Cy.

[nothingsodivine]

Des doesn't notice at first, because sometimes Des is an oblivious idiot and there's really nothing all that odd about someone following along beside him on the street... Except when she doesn't make any move to speed up or slow down or fall out of step with him.

"Are you going my way, sugarplum?" He asks, mildly incredulous, arching an eyebrow at her. Des can say things like that and not sound slightly sketchy. It's a thing.

[allmydiredreams]

The phrasing bothers Babel not -- often she doesn't register sketch when it gets on her, so nonsketchy sketch will go right over her head.

She leaves off the slurping for a moment, to look up at him with a mock-considering expression. "Am I?" she asks. Then pauses. Then smiles. "It looks like it. For a little bit, I think, until the footsteps pass or part. Business as usual?" Yeah, she can tell he's doing something, got something on his mind -- similar feeling to the Doctor, earlier, but she's not going to put two and two together, not out of something so small. Everyone's got places they need to be, after all.

[nothingsodivine]

And the crazy continues to follow. He is the flame to their moths. One day, he won't question it. There will be a lot of things happening on day and it'll probably be the day the real apocalypse happens.

"If actually having business is usual," Des responds with a shrug, turning his attention back to the street. There's a difference between business AND OH GOD, OH GOD, CHICAGO IS BURNING AND WHO THE FUCK IS THAT WITH THE FIDDLE? The last business endeavor he had was, well... The swamp escapade. That seems like a long time ago, really.

He glances back at her. "And who might you be exactly?"

[kineticmachine]

Arlin is starting to wonder exactly why it is that every time he goes into a bar lately, he sees Bambi. There've got to be more bars in Chicago than that. Though this isn't the usual Bambi he runs into, anyway; this might actually be amusing. If he were capable of finding things amusing at this point, what with the HQ of Black December kind of going up in flames, literally.

He gets his drink first, something harder than usual, before going over toward Bambi and leaning on the bar about a foot away. "I'd offer to buy you a drink, but it looks as though you might need an escort home instead."

[theshameofcain]

Bambi moves her head off the counter and looks at Arlin with bleary, unfocused eyes. "Arlin, fancy seeing you here," she slurrs. "Didja hear about the bank?" She makes a disgusted noise and turns her face so that it's pressed against the counter again. "'Course you did. Who didn't?"

And guess who had The Fox of Christmas WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED HERE barking at her door? Yep, that's right. The Bambinator.

Bambi really, really hates her life.

[kineticmachine]

Arlin sits down at the stool next to her, face darkening. "Yes, unfortunately, I did," he growls. Not that he's not unhappy that Cole's dead -- he'd always known the man was insane and never liked him for that fact, among others -- but it was a large faction of the Organization, and that going down is gonna fuck some shit up. Or at least make things difficult.

Also, has it been mentioned that Arlin hates explosions? He hates explosions.

He takes a large drink of the alcohol, grimacing a little -- it's not incredibly well-mixed and he doesn't incredibly enjoy tequila to begin with -- and then just...sits there. Conversation isn't one of the skills he managed to pick up in over a thousand years, but hey, Bambi looks like she might pass out or die spontaneously by this point, so he's going to make sure she doesn't crack her head open on the way to the floor or something.

[theshameofcain]

Bambi doesn't respond for a long time. Normally, she's not a conversational person. Normally, she'd drink and smoke and leave with a clap on Arlin's back and just head back to the bookstore.

Today? Today she's drunk.

"I fuckin' can't believe this. No, really. It's bullshit is what it is."

....Very, very drunk.

We're sorry, Arlin.