It's Not A Raid, It's A Rescue Mission

Summary:
February 26, 2015: A joint MPD and SRD task force makes its move on the heart of the Queen of Blood's vampiric 'nation'.

The Byrne-Joseph Housing Projects, Suicide Slum, Metropolis

A collection of abandoned apartment high-rises and rowhouses somewhere in the worst part of the best city in America.


Characters

NPCs

  • Mary, Queen of Blood
  • Professor John Troughton

Mood Music:
[*<http://insert.video.or.music.link.here>]


THE BYRNE-JOSEPH PROJECTS
FEBRUARY 26th, 2015
NOON

"PEOPLE OF SANGUINARIA," an officer thunders through Cougar-mounted bullhorns, "THIS IS LIEUTENANT MCKELVY WITH THE MPD! YOU ARE UNLAWFULLY OCCUPYING A CONDEMNED PROPERTY! MEMBERS OF YOUR ORGANIZATION ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DEATHS OF FOUR OFFICERS OF THE LAW! FURTHERMORE, YOU ARE WANTED FOR QUESTIONING IN RELATION TO THE DISAPPEARANCES OF…"

… there are, perhaps, a few dozen names; not so many in a city as big as Metropolis, but more than enough.

"SURRENDER YOURSELVES AND ANY HOSTAGES IMMEDIATELY! THIS IS YOUR FIRST WARNING!"

A row of Cougars from the SRD side of the task force that's kept watch over the situation brewing in Byrne-Joseph over the last few days rumbles in the expansive parking lot on one end of B-J's central courtyard. One of the vehicles near the middle is much larger than the others - an HE, but with loudspeakers in place of a weapon turret. McKelvy and a group of about ten other riot-geared MPD officers stand a few paces back from the Cougars with their van and squad cars parked a ways behind them.

A broken ring of high-rise apartments surrounds that expanse of dust, stubborn grass, and cracked asphault, with paths leading through the gaps towards a series of row houses. A main building, taller than any other lies on the opposite side of the parking lot; the buildings are crumbling shells of whatever they once were, broken down by decades of neglect until they were no longer fit to live in.

A cacophony of screaming, howling, and profanity trickles from the buildings in the space between demands; otherwise, Bryne-Joseph is still.

***

"Fucking cops! Give a girl a chance to get herself settled before you start blowing up her spot!" the Queen of Blood grumbles to herself as she searches through apartments on the top floor of the main high-rise. So far, this has mostly involved throwing things into the hall, seemingly at random. The walls rattle with each name, lending urgency to her search; eventually, they're going to run out of names, and she's going to have to start making some decisions. "I swear, if one of these jackasses was playing Snake— oh, hey— "

Mary sees an old cell-phone near the bottom of a box of junk. It's one of several she's picked up over the years and discarded for annoying her in some way; since many of her children tend to be more patient when dealing with modern technology, they have their occasional uses, but finding them is always the trick.

"SURRENDER YOURSELVES AND ANY HOSTAGES IMMEDIATELY! THIS IS YOUR FIRST WARNING!"

After powering the phone on and dialing one of her trusted subordinates' numbers, she is immediately greeted by yet more noise - battle cries, cursing, unintelligble howling, and so forth; she nearly hangs up and throws the phone back into its box initially, but once that moment passes, she hisses, "You guys need to get it the fuck together so we can give the pigs an answer," over whatever status report the person on the other end was about to give. "First thing's first: go check on the newbies; find me some, ah, ornery ones…"

***

"THIS IS YOUR THIRD AND FINAL WARNING," McKelvy bellows, some minutes after the first. There have been snatches of movement behind the high-rises, but not a single surrender or escalation. "IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY, WE WILL BE FORCED—"

No escalation, that is, until— now.

Inhuman cries not unlike the ones leaking out of the buildings pierce the air as a young man and woman - neither much older than 25 - tear out of the narrow space between the high-rises and row houses, barreling towards the task force with murder in the black pools and white beads of their eyes.

"FIRE!" McKelvy orders without hesitation. "MOVE! MOVE!"

The Cougars begin to roll over the sidewalk dividing the parking lot from the courtyard. The officers grouped with McKelvy raise automatic rifles and some open fire; both aggressors nearly make it to the Cougar line before falling, despite each of them taking numerous hits.

And after they fall, they *crawl towards the task force's lines, gurgling barely intelligible curses the whole way.

Red mist swirls above the main building for a second or two before coalescing into a woman with corpse-white skin, scarlet hair, and an endlessly flowing red cloak.

"I think we can work something out on letting you guys have some of these people back," Queen of Blood calls to the task force, her voice loud, pitched an octave, and laced with a growl, "but I can't promise that they won't fight to stay in their new home; you miiiiight want to be careful!"

-

Why is Remy LeBeau in Metropolis? French Quarter, Lafayette Metropolis. It's a slice of home away from home up north and the Cajun has fallen in love with it recently. So far he has been able to hang out there without running in to a shred of Guild politics. It's a nice get away and he is going to savor it while it lasts. That is until of course you cross town and end up witnessing a Stephen King movie in person, no, this reminds him more of 30 Days of Night.

The deep red 2014 Mazda MX-5 Miata pulls to a stop and the X-Men watches from the end of the road as SRD defense line is assailed by vampires? Shit. He heard rumor but to see it with his own eyes is something else. Cellphone in hand Remy thumbs his finger over the speeddial of the X-Men digits he has, who cares who, one of them will pick up.

"Ey, who dis? Anyways, I'm in Metropolis and someone gonna wanna see dis… maybe help or something." Apparently he didn't text Scott or forgot the comm-channel commands to whomever maybe monitoring things. So many buttons and shiny stuff who can remember these things.

-

Metropolis.

It always seemed to be the one city out of the three that always seem to get the shit end of the stick. Which is probably why after hours of training Shayera reduces herself to patrolling the happy and sunshine city where evil knocks and makes itself at home. Bright as it was (which wasn't much), stars continue to litter the sky, hidden behind clouds coupled with the tilt of Terra. She was flying high to take in the frequences through her helmet, full on Nth regalia to protect her form from the elements that draw bones to a chill and muscles to shiver to bring about warmth. There was no time to shake and shiver in her super suit.

The flashing of red and blue draws her attention as she sinks herself within the skies, her gaze squinting and narrowing as the lenses turn three shades bright, ear piece within her ear channelled into the rows of panick that spans across the coms.

A stroke of mist. And a woman issuing a challenge. This causes the woman to grin and crack her knuckles, muscles bearing down as wings give one swift flap, her body tight as she rockets forth, her head bowing so the brunt of the glass shattering into the building could take most of the hit to leave precious caramel skin protected.

She soars over the police, and the woman gathered.. the only thing seen by the men in blue was a blur of gold.

The woman? With eyes like hers? Would see something stick out from the gold mass that flies towards the window..

A middle finger followed by a hail of glass.

Building officially breached.
-

Okay. So. Lunair was hiding out quietly somewhere in the city. She was reading up on crab care, and chilling with a stack of supplies. Lunair seems to have gone to a local pet store and informed the clerk that she has a crab. A red one. From the beach. Yes. She tucked the supplies into her new car, and locks it up.

And it takes everything in her power not to giggle at Cougars. Really. She envisions a bunch of middle aged women mauling tourists and leaping through the trees. She's also happy to have a car, since her last one had the door ripped off, smashed by an SUV and a grenade go off inside of it. That's just how Lunair do. And unfortunately for Remy (poor Remy), Lunair happens to 1) be the closest and 2) answer. Blinkblink. "Oooh. Yeah, forgot I had this…" Worst X-person EVER. Answer! "Hello. This is Lunair! um, what's up? Where are you?" Happily, she's just a block or so away and will likely wander over incidentally. Fate and Chaos have a way with her (a nice, 6 armed lady once pat her on the head and said she was touched by the Wild Ways. What a nice lady! Lunair does her best to live up to that). "Oh. OH WOW. Okay, so it's like a goth thing…"
-

The suit needed practical data gathered under realistic circumstances in the field. Not just the occasional bit of random crime-fighting that it's been given. A change in locale was ordered. Gotham may offer more samples. New York the same. Metropolis, however, offers its own unique laboratory of life since crime and mayhem tend to be turned up to eleven in that city.

The end result is Contingency C, or Charlie as he's been called, is aimed at the point of conflict. Clad in black tactical harness and with a myriad of firearms secure in their holsters, the former Midtown High football star takes a moment to reflect on exactly how he got here. Then the next he leaps off the side of the nearby building and make his approach to the containment zone. He falls, firing out a thin tendril of 'nano-fiber' to break his descent and send him swinging to the other buildings rooftop. Attempting the approach as subtly as feasible when considering a building full of vampiric individuals.
-

There was a streak of red and blue over the city streets as Kara flew around on patrol, enjoying the wind against her face. She's got a pair of white earbuds in her ears and she's singing along to an iPhone tucked somewhere into her costume, "I go oooh oohh, you go ah ah lalalalalalal."

The girl/woman of steel depending on who you asked continued to sing along as she spotted the commotion going on down below, it was kind of her duty to help, "I can't lie lie lie lie. I wanna wanna get get what I want, don't stop."

She's still singing very much like a teenage girl when she sets down amidst the SRD forces, the symbolic S on the chest of her 'battle armor' hopefully a reassuring sight to the SRD and MPD.

"Give give, give give me what you got - " Kara stops singing and removes the earbuds from her ears waving to the police officers and SRD officers, "It might be a good idea for you all to stay back and make sure nobody gets close, we'll deal with this and rescue the hostages." She had noticed other heroic types in the area and it was better not to have the SRD tangle with them to.

Placing the earbuds back in her ears she starts to sing before leaping towards the red mist turned woman, not caring about superhero/villain dialogue as she continues to sing along with her music.

-

"Oh, real mature," the Queen of Blood snaps before bursting into mist again. Thanks to inhumanly sharp senses, Mary can see Shayera and her insult screaming towards her domain; she cannot, however, do much to stop the fast-moving, super-strong heroine from crashing into her building, so getting clear of any potential structural failures is her first priority.

"Fucking superheroes…" her voice echoes from the mist swirling above the building.

Inside is a disaster area that's only gotten worse since the Queen's arrival. The upper three floors are full of her stuff, scattered amongst otherwise unused units; nobody but Mary lives up there.

The other floors are a different story: the room that Shayera breaches is empty, but there's a cot set up in a corner of it, as well as a paper plate with some bread crumbs and an empty cup. Dried, sanguine drag marks run from red splatters near the cot towards the door; none of it's fresh, but it isn't more than a day or so old, either.

Most of the windows on the high-rises are boarded up, and the vampires within are too busy psyching themselves up for glory(thus, the cursing, howling, et cetera); Venom's approach goes unnoticed, at least for now.

"Suppose I can't bla— aaaay— "

Supergirl scatters Mary with her arrival, causing strands of her to waft towards a corner of the roof to reform; she's on one knee as she coalesces, though she doesn't stay there long.

"Well," she exhales, running talons through her hair with a frustrated pout, "Shit; guess you got me. Guess I oughtta go ahead and release those— "

Her hand abruptly falls from her hair to her lips and she emits a shrill whistle instead of finishing her sentence.

Meanwhile, down at the perimeter, the HE and two other Cougars are still rolling forward in spite of Supergirl's warning. Lengthy, well-polished blades jut from the underside of each of the MPD group's barrels, so rather than waste more bullets on the more or less incapacitated hostiles crawling towards them, those closest to the pair ready their weapons to deliver decapitating blows.

Those closer to the back have to deal with a different kind of incursion, though.

"Let me through! Let me through!" A bespectacled man in his sixties, still physically fluid despite his age, pushes his way towards the police. "There's time! They've got superheroes, don't they…? You've got to tell them… there's a 48 hours limit! If you can find the sire… the one who turned them, and kill him, you can return the others back to human! It's been… how long has it been, forty-four hours? There's time left, if you can find out who…!"

"SUPERGIRL," McKelvy thunders as the professor shouts at them, "YOU ARE— WHAT?" McKelvy can't make out everything that the old man is saying, but he catches enough to give him pause. "— HOLD!" he orders, lowering his radio and waving the old man closer. The other Cougars pause a short ways into the courtyard. "You're going to have to say that— "

Mary's whistle pierces the air just then, cutting him off and summoning more vampires from the row houses - ten in all, most of them in the late teens-to-early 20s bracket.

They are all as ravenously happy to see the assembled forces as the first two were, but this time, the officers frantically look between the vampires, one another, McKelvy, and of course, the old man for guidance rather than simply opening fire. The few who do eventually fire pull their shots wide, aiming to deter their attackers instead of just cutting them down— just in case.

It doesn't really work, what with the supernatural bloodlust, but they try.
-

The crack and blast through the window sent Shayera tumbling upon the ground into a skidded stop which left one knee planted into the debris that she created. There was no use of pulling her mace and staff now, hand to hand would be her fortay in the foray of .. whatever the hell this thing was. Could it be demons? Maybe. Aliens from another planet? Likely. She's seen some perps that have done the whole misty bit who were immediately felled when they tasted Shayera's fist.

A cursory scan is given to the room; there was a cot. Someone slept here. A plate and a cup. Someone feasted in this dump. It curled her lip as she fans her wings and stands to her full height.

Which was not much. Larger than life personality, packed in a short stature.

There was no masking herself after the commotion she created, which was purposely done for those who lay in wait for an ambush to come to her foolishly. She follows the trail of blood that smelled of sick out into the hallway; gauntlet hands striking out to scrape against the surface to create a racket, leaning weight upon each step she takes to create an omnious thump in her wake.

"Come out. Come out. Where ever you may hide." She intones, gaze flitting left and right, the commotion gone unheard for now, a sardonic grin plastered upon her lips as she waits for the first to arrive to beat black and blue.

As of now, they were on a put down with any means necessary list, she did not hear that some of these people could be saved.
-

Lunair doesn't look overly heroic just yet, so she's gonna have to armor up and use rocket boots to totally look the part. She's so going to follow - let's see… well, Supergirl's probably got whomever is in there, so maybe playing crowd control with dubstep'll work. Today, her armor is white with gold trim. It's totally vampire hunting gear. Except this time, it's totally Siouxie and the Banshees. Vampires like that stuff, right? Failing that, there's the super soaker with holy water to run them back. She'll try to stay near the cars in case the authorities decide to bother /her/ because she's about as well registered as a drunken college student. That is to say, she isn't.
-

Another intrusion into the Queen's domain, but hopefully a slightly less noticable one. Flash Thompson makes his way up the side of the building, the windows boarded and barring his entrance. The intel he had gave a token layout of the building, but he learns more from the feedback of enhanced senses that the suit feeds him. Possible hostages, multiple targets, it takes a few moments for him to ascertain the most feasible point of entry. Yet once that's done the decision is made. First he flips the small switch on the UV light attached to his chest then he readies his weapon.

Angling for an entrypoint with the fewest mobile bad guys and what heat signatures most likely are non-combatants, Contingency C gets set, then hopefully when there's a moment of loud noise he'll make his breach and entry, rolling into position and coming up with his carbine ready.
-

Ordinarily, she hated being called Supergirl but it was a nessecity when among non-heroic people, to McKelvy she replies cheerfully, "Yep, that's me!" Right before she had blasted off.

The woman turning into mist doesn't give Kara as much pause as it should, she's been getting used to dealing with all kinds of supernatural threats. She doesn't even pay attention to what the other woman says, enjoying her song. Damn villains, always interrupting a good time.

A shrill scream? Kara raised the pitch of her voice, still singing along with her song; the last words she sings being sent against the shrill vampiric woman with devastating sonic force, "-Don't even talk about the CONSEQUENCE."
-

Taking a deep breath to explain himself, the bespectacled man indicates in deep. "Please, you've got to explain… the woman in there is trying to distract you. She's a vampire, true, but she can't have infected them -all-. Kill the one who sired them, and you've got a chance to turn them all back to humans. You've got to tell -one- of them to find the one that they're hiding, and it's -not- the redhaired vampire!"

Pausing for breath, he stops, turning his attention as McKelvy asks the obvious question: "Who are you and how do you know this?"

"I'm Professor John Troughton. A vampire hunter," the bespectacled man explains. "My friend and I have been after Mary for quite a long time." The background he doesn't -go- into, because it would have prevented too much trouble. "But first, we need to save the people she's turned…!"

"How do we know which ones are…?"
"You wanna tell us how to do *our* job when you've been droppin' the ball—"

"Hold— hold fire," McKelvy orders as a hissing, shrieking wave of death crashes towards them. "Switch to holy— "

*BWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORM!*

A violently modulated waveform meets a group of incoming vampires; almost instantly, they fall to the ground clutching their newly sensitive ears and screaming in agony.

While putting this operation together, the task force had time to come up with a few countermeasures suited to the perps. The long bayonets are one; the incendiary rounds and grenades sprinkled through the group are another. McKelvy's aborted command prompts some of the officers to bring a third to bear as ampoules full of sloshing liquid are unclipped from tactical vests and hurled into the vampires who haven't already succumbed to The Drop.

This leaves two vampires who aren't clutching their ears or writhing and smoking in puddles of holy water to lunge into the group; all of the new stimuli are keeping them a little too disoriented to fight with any real efficiency, but one still manages to pin an officer to the ground and commence trying to tear through her armor with fangs and claws both, while the other charges after Troughton and forces the officers closest to him to hastily usher him back while thrusting their bayonets after the aggressor to keep him at bay.

Atop the main building, Supergirl's amplified sonics send Mary tumbling across the roof, her body rippling, bulging, and *growing* the entire time. Her hair grows grows wildly— explosively, even, morphing from something pixie-ish into a flowing mane down her back.

By the last bounce, her slit mouth is a wolf's snout, her sharp but delicate fingers have become huge, wicked claws, and she's a solid eight, maybe even nine feet of feral muscle. The roof cracks as she lands, then pushes herself to her feet with a derisive, "HAH!" in a rumbling voice. She opens her mouth to address Supergirl further, but— the earbuds suggest that she might be wasting her time, so she settles for charging across the roof like an undead locomotive to tackle the Woman of Steel to the ground.

Inside, Shayera finds an empty hallway with another door across from hers and a third at the end, both shut. The drag marks run away from both of the other doors and into what was probably a living room, pre-condemnation; at this point, it seems to serve as a (presently empty) feeding area. The floor and walls are coated in dried blood, and a few scattered odds and ends - watches, wallets, keys, and so forth - litter the space.

A few seconds after Hawkgirl's invitation, a trembling voice responds from the door at the end of the hall: "H— hello?"

Contingency C would find several non-combatant heat signatures near the opening Shayera made; there are also many more scattered among the middle floors between Mary's personal domain and the collection of nearly non-existant, vampire signatures on the first and second floor.

In the high-rise nearest to Lunair's current position, a young woman in a filthy black dress and stockings combo darts out of the front entrance shrieking, "I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN IT, I TAKE IT BACK, THIS BLOWS! I SWEAR!" as The Drop fades. A couple seconds later, a pair of vampires emerge giving chase; one still has a hand over his ear.

"ONE OF THEM'S HIDING SOMEWHERE AWAY FROM THE FIGHTING," McKelvy shouts into his radio as the fighting ensues around him. "FIND IT, AND WE TAKE THE NEWLY MADE ONES OUT OF THE PICTURE!"

-

Now Shayera hears the racket outside. But it was of no concern to her. Not now. It all sounded like riff-raff. A fight of the minions were taking part outside; she was here for the boss. The big bad that made it all happen. Her eyes glance up top to hear the commotion upon the roof, the soft and faint thumps of Eugene as he makes his entrance. There was a moment, where her arms drop to her side, metal clanking against metal, wings folded and resting upon her back as she presses further into the hallway.

Only to stop once she heard the quiet hello.

On Thangar, a quiet hello, voice marked with fear, it was the makings of a trap. But most of these people did manage to find hiding spaces in the thick of evil, foolish as they were.

"I am here." She speaks faithfully, approaching the door with slow steps, giving the trembling voice time to back down and away from the door, to think better of their current situation. "And I am here to save you."

Her hand drops behind herself as the mace is drawn from her hip, she does not bring it to life just yet, but it was held upright as she presses a hand against the door to give it a hard shove.

Shayera definitely heard /that/ this time.

-

Lunair weaponized goth music. Go her! Lunair is content to play outside, likely after seeing or hearing that at least two really strong heroines went in. There's a worried look as one of the vampires starts trying to make a cop snack. She's going to do her best to keep out of the vampire hunting professor (bet that must be one hell of an elective!), and instead help deal with the young woman and the pair of vampires after her.

Dual wielding is a subject of controversy in most games, but Lunair can handle it to a point. Wubs are sure to bother vampires, as is her dreaded cat staff. It's a cute staff, with a carved cat atop the staff. A good swing and a shockwave goes flying behind the lady at the two vampires and some wubs. GOTH WUBS.
-

Supergirl may have seemed like she was a ditzy teenage girl with the white earbuds and the singing while she was in the midst of some very serious business; but she had the advantage of enhanced hearing, she wasn't stupid she just wanted some tunes to listen to.

The Professor down below seems to be spouting off some stuff she saw in Twilight and all she had come away from that movie with was that Vampires were evil crazy stalkers. She had then been shown some other movies where people hunted Vampires and now here she was dealing with Vampires. Cool!

Then Mary slams into her and the roof beneath her begins to shoot up bits of debris as she's pushed backwards slowly. Her earbuds fall from her ears and she looks like she might be getting a little pissed now.

Regarding the Vampiric Queen for a moment Kara shook her head, "Based on all your little tricks, I'm going to guess your Mary and honestly I'm totally not in the mood to deal with your level of scum."

After her encounters with the supernatural she was able to understand some things simply no longer counted as alive; a vampire sire would probably fall into the category.

"IT'S TIME FOR THOSE PEOPLE TO BE FREE!" A wave of solar energy, searing heat like an inferno expands out from Kara into a massive solar flare that consumes the entirety of the area she is in; in the center of it all stands Kara herself eyes glowing red.
-

The bespectacled man bristles. "She's taking advantage of the -sunless days- to do this, is what happened, and the speed at which she's producing vampires is faster than we can keep up with now…! We need to find…"

His voice trails off as the bomb cuts down a great deal. "Find… oh god…" Fumbling for his own garlic and holy water, the man brings it up to splash it quickly. "Cut off their heads! And … it's probably hiding where there's the most vampires surrounding it…!"

McKelvy passes all of this along almost as quickly as he gets it; it would technically be easier to pass the radio over to Troughton, but it's his radio. Playing middle man will do. He does, at least, chuck a holy water grenade at the vampire that Troughton's guards are keeping at bay; between that and the splash from the professor, it drops and smokes.

The Cougars' doors open and SRD/MPD officers begin piling out to start clearing the buildings surrounding Mary's; since there aren't enough of them to safely handle them all at once, they pick one side to start on and commencing breaching. They're heavily armored from neck to toe, and some of their guns sport grenade launchers; given McKelvy/Troughton's imperatives, some are leaving their guns hanging from their bodies in favor of machetes.

Unfortunately for the young woman, she is on the exact wrong side of the task force. A couple of officers fire in the general direction of her pursuers, but the bullets hit the ground harmlessly; it's Lunair's combination of kinetic and sonic waves that actually saves her by sending the vampires flying a ways across the courtyard. The noise brings her hands to her ears, but her hearing isn't nearly as sensitive as theirs; she'll live, even if she'll never quite listen to Siouxsie and the Banshees the same way again.

Shayera is greeted by the sight of a middle-aged man in the tattered remnants of a yellow mesh shirt and black slacks and an older woman who looks as if she was on her way to the grocery store a couple of weeks ago. The man is huddled on a cot on the other side of the room, his back turned to the door; the woman is kneeling beside it with a hand on his back. Hers was the voice that trembled through the door, and after a wary look up and down at Shayera, she gives the man a vigorous shake and murmurs, "C'mon, I think— I think it's— it's time to go," in a barely credulous voice.

Given a few seconds to gather and compose themselves, both will eventually come along with Shayera, with the woman leading the way to her. She offers a lowly voiced, "Thank you. It— it's not just— we are not the only ones being held here," as she falls in. "This— is their pantry…"

A floor below, Contingency C is stealthily making contact with more captives after finding a window that was merely covered with tarp instead of boarded over.

Above them, Mary and Supergirl vie for dominance. Mary is *strong*, even for a vampire, and bringing this bestial side of herself to the front has only amplified her unholy strength.

'Strong for a vampire' only means so much to a woman locked in combat with a Woman of Steel, however.

"And based… hff… on this lovely… nngh… battle swimsuit… I'm guessin' you're Supergirl," she spits back while struggling. "Here to give the freedom fighter a lecture on— "

She doesn't get to finish forming her retort because Supergirl begins glowing pretty much out of nowhere; before she can even fully register the shift, she is inundated with solar energy and sent hurtling away from the rooftop - away from Byrne-Joseph entirely - like a shooting star in an otherwise dark sky.
-

Shayera raises her mace and… nothing..

GODDAMN IT!

The mace is lowered as she spies the couple in the center of the room, a loud huff given at the disappointment of her findings. She was hoping for a battle, one that would echo the halls of Thangar, worthy of praise. Her teeth were bared in that moment, a threatening smile that soon fades, her mace-hand dropping only to reattach it to her hip. She steps aside, leaning against the door, arms soon crossed above her armored chest as she watches the old couple warily. "Their pantry. You were feed for the beasts." Shayera confirms, her lips soon puckering to twist as she allows the old couple to go first.

"I will see you to the exit, safe and sound. Until then, you must pick and pace. I have no time to babysit." People need beating, heads need to roll. Shayera was in /that/ mood to do damage, and the mood was mighty fine.
-

What if she tried Caramelldansen to terrorize the vampires? Lunair will make sure the young woman gets past to the SRD. And for her part? She will help herd the vampires into holy water, blast them with noise and generally be a bother. CARAMELLDANSEN. "Wait, what? Am I supposed to cut off the vampire's heads?" Depending on the response, she may have to - well, let's just keep using sonic waves and help the cops out here. This is so not her usual method.
-

Moving silently amongst the halls and the rooms while the ruckus rages loudly outside, Flash Thompson can hear in his thoughts the likely annoyance of the eggheads back at the lab. They're not going to get much useful data here, not the data they wanted having to deal with stress ratios and body chemistry. No, they're just getting a feedback on the young man's elevated heartbeat as he moves from room to room, making contact with the hostages.

A man in a combat harness wearing what seems to be a balaclava can be a terrifying thing. But then for what some of these people have been through, seeing what seems to be a special forces trooper might seem like a godsend. "Quiet." The young man's voice is this curious alien reverberation as he frees a young woman and an older man. "Two rooms on the left. You'll find a ladder. Clip on and descend."

It's just a few moments before he gets them to the room, gets them moving down the rolled out rescue ladder with the safety harness. Once the first of them starts their descent he touches a hand to his ear and keys in the throat-mike. That alien voice comes over the agency comms amongst some of the law enforcement as well as a few other possibly involved agencies. "Non-coms descending, southwest sector of second building. Cover requested." And that's it. No identifier, and nothing further.
-

Kara waves to the exploding flying woman, a little surprised at what was happening since she had intended to incinerate her and free everyone from her control. She just shrugs her shoulders and looks to the remains of her earbuds poking out of her costume, "Seriously?"

Doing a quick scan of the building with her enhanced senses she notices the others and smiles, everyone had done very well. Then something at the bottom of the building catches her attention.

With the threat apparently dealt with as far as she could tell, whether it was or not she flies down towards the Professor and the SRD, telling them, "So, totally dealt with your vampire but the JL:A is gonna be billing you guys for a pair of earbuds." It was her attempt at being funny, but seriously she needed another pair.

She points towards the building, "Bottom two floors have a bunch of people cowering or something, you may want to take them in so you can HELP them asap. No killing or I'll be back and so will Superman. Clear?"
-

Clearly, what Kara was doing was warning the police in advance, because then she Kara then races into the building, avoiding property damage as she uses already opened doors to make her way rapidly towards the lower levels of the building.

With the rest of the people in the room cowering, her target was obvious; the sire had to be the one who wasn't cowering with the rest of them, "You've sort of enslaved a bunch of innocent people, I sent your girlfriend blasting off like Team Rocket." Kara had watched Pokemon, they were cute, "And now since these people are still all zombified, it's time to deal with you. I'll be nice though, reverse what you did and just leave and I won't fry your undead butt."

Kara's eyes were glowing red already, she was ready to turn the Undead Sire into a crispy critter if he didn't reverse the vampirism.
-

A vampire with an actual view of the outside gets a glimpse of Mary being blown away. Her building isn't being raided yet, but it's only a matter of time; she can also see officers beginning to emerge from some of the other buildings with humans in tow, and while there are plenty of injuries amongst the officers, the writing is on the wall.

What chance do any of them have without their Queen to guide them?

She starts running towards the nearest stairwell while punching a message into her phone: "QUEEN IS DED, WERE FUKED".

As soon as that's sent, she starts yelling, "Any people or humans who don't wanna get caught in the cross-fire, get your asses to the back door!"

She is not the only one to have this idea, though others are more forceful in their efforts to bring hostages with them— and many don't begin making their escape until the law is already upon them. A little over a dozen vampires and a small handful of humans begin darting out of the backs of various high-rises, intent on getting as far from the heroes and officers as they possibly can while those parties take care of subduing and/or rescuing whomever they find.

At least a couple of the escapees are sure to be floored by Lunair's weaponized anime salvos.

"The waiting was… well. All of it was terrible, but the waiting made it so much worse," the woman with Shayera murmurs as she is ushered by Shayera, and ushers the mesh shirt wearing man along in turn. There's a bit of limping between them, but they seem reasonably capable of walking, just— unused to doing so with any degree of freedom, now. "Trust me, we're ready to leave."

On the ground floor, the vampire that Supergirl is squaring off with just laughs; one of the two frightened individuals near him shoots a defiant glare her way; the other gives her a half-hearted flash of fang.

"'Zombified'? 'Enslaved'? Baby girl…" He says after a few peals, stalking towards her with predatory intent in his eyes, "I didn't do anything to anyone that they didn't ask for. Only way I'm reversing anything is— "

*ZAKT!*

The sire is reduced to ash.

The others in the unit raise their hands; they might be undead, but they aren't stupid.

Outside, pale mist rises from the vampires who tried to assault the police lines and their dark eyes, fanged mouths, and other tell-tale signs of inhumanity visibly fade— as do any lingering holy water burns. The same mist wafts out of some of the row house windows.

"That's… " Troughton gasps as his eyes folow the translucent trails. "The sire must have been… " He presses a hand to his heart, momentarily, then exhales heavily and swabs sweat from his brow. "Anyone who can be cleansed… should be."

McKelvy nods along with Troughton, but he's preoccupied with fielding reports from his team— and Contigency C. A couple of men are peeled off from a cleared high-rise to meet the people he's sending out and bringing them to the police line, along with the other hostages being pulled from what's left of this broken experiment.

-


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