Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20190205035159/@comment-5999656-20190320034441

Alyxia clung to the metal railing as the entire warehouse shuddered into motion, heralded by a long, low creak which seemed to echo throughout the entire room, bouncing throughout the empty space like an auditory backdrop to the screams and gunfire already cacaphonous throughout the interior. A massive vessel like this wasn't capable of fast motion, but the motion was enough to send most of the people in the room glancing around accusingly, trying in vain to determine the origin of the newfound instability beneath their feet. These expressions were rapidly replaced by dawning horror, the profound realization that Mr. X's auction had spontaneously been set adrift for the open ocean.

Despite it all, Alyxia grinned beneath her skull mask at the way Black Swan addressed her. She nodded once - a silent assent for Hilda's suggestion. Gone was the time for loudmouthed, wayward merc Maris. This was the moment for Alyxia - the model Syndicate agent. At that moment, she detected a silver blinking flash approaching the edge of her vision.

Alyxia vaulted over the railing one handed, bringing her body swinging over the bars. Instead of landing on the opposite side, however, she continued with the motion and kicked the glowing oncoming grenade with the front of her foot in a slick break-dancer move, changing its trajectory and sending it flying in a long arc behind her, into the back of the crowd of armed police pouring in at the far end of the room. The bomb went off a few satisfying seconds later, and while it wasn't enough to pierce the heavy armor of the SAINTs, it was enough to send a handful of them flying into the wall.

Alyxia landed on the bars, pressing her boots into the curved metal as she reached back and unclipped Ordinator from underneath her jacket. In one motion, she brought the shotgun up, pressing the butt against her shoulder as she leveled her barrel at the planted cop who had lobbed the gun.

She took in his shocked expression for just a half second before she pulled the trigger. His body twisted as he was rocked by the simultaneous shots, and a second later he crumpled to the ground behind his shopfront.

"Sorrel," Alyxia said coldly, her voice muffled underneath her mask. Behind Brunhilde, Alyxia's addressee cocked his head, arms crossed as he leaned leisurely against the cold wall.

"Noticed me, finally?" he asked casually. In the disarray, the agent had merely climbed up the balcony himself. As relaxed as he appeared to be, the move was tactical rather than self-aggrandizing. He'd been watching, guarding Alyxia's blind side as she took her shot.

"Watch Swan's right," Alyxia said, straightening up and taking a step off the balcony. She landed at Wynston's side, muzzle pointed and ready to fire at the nearest threat.

The last thing they need is for their ticket out of here to be ambushed on her blind side. Sorrel turns to Brunhilde, so that the heiress could see a distorted version of herself in the curved reflection of the black visor.

"After you, milady."

________________________

Not a moment after this exchange and the quartet's subsequent departure, the facility was rocked again. First, by a three-second clip of maximum volume muzak, then by a dazzling kaleidoscopic light show, only to be replaced once again by blackness, with a side of light rain. Not that the warehouse was pitch black by any means. Moonlight still filtered in through the dirty windows high above, and the neon lights of the armored soldiers and their high-tech weapons were even brighter in the gloom as they swept relentlessly forward. It was matched by sporadic glow from the criminals, now regrouped in scattershot clumps at the sides of the auction floor.

In all the disarray, no one noticed the fallen police officer. If they had, however, they would have encountered an eerie sight. The blood and shrapnel soaking his clothes seemed to retract into his body, and his baggy clothing and hair rippled and retracted a few seconds later. The mess of greys and blues blended, seeming to flatten against his prone body, only to reform into something concrete once again.

A few seconds later, and a Huntress in an open white blazer with golden epaulets, and black jeans and military boots, with brown hair tied back in a messy ponytail lay in the officer's place. She opened her eyes slowly, and then sat up in a flash.

"Oww..." she groaned, rubbing the back of her head. Her other hand went to the rectangular body camera clipped to the front of her shirt, and she ripped it off and held it up in front of her. Good, it was intact.

Lustra Chamberlain scowled as she returned the camera to her shirt. Her chest was sore where the gunshots had made contact. Such was the sacrifice that needed to be made in the name of inconspicuousness. Her attackers would have noticed immediately if a no-name police officer had been able to dodge bullets. So she'd tanked the shots instead, and banked on her semblance covering the rest as usual.

Still. Ow.

Lustra pressed herself against the back of her storefront, and she activated her semblance again. This time, she tweaked the face slightly, giving herself a five o'clock shadow and the grim stare of a veteran cop. The illusion of throwaway clothing formed over her body again as she returned to the form of an undercover cop.

Her orders had been explicit. Monitor, but do not intervene. With the information they'd gathered, Nozomi and the Mistral PD would have plenty of probable cause to make sweeping arrests later. Once this whole shitshow was dead and done.