View source for Logs:Gentryfication: It's Not Over

{{Log 
| content-warning= House fires, explosives, murder.
| cast=[[Sturm]], [[Glitch]], [[Sigrun Ljosdottir]], [[Scourge]], [[Wren]] and [[User:Spider|Spider]] as ST and [[Robin Kovacs]]. Part of [[Plot: Gentryfication|Gentryfication]]
| setting=Robin's Hideout
| log=There is a truck rolling through east Philly, cruising up Girard avenue towards Fishtown.  Driving it is a diminutive young woman, Wren in this particular instance.  In the back are the rest of the unruly brute squad sent to enact the Freehold's justice.  In various dark armor and black clothing, Sigrun, Sturm, Glitch, and Scourge ride in the flat bed of the truck, cloaked in Sturm's magic to keep them all beyond the notice of prying eyes, hidden and hunkered down as they close in on their destination.  Sigrun is holding the Tiwaz rune he wears around her neck, and praying fiercely with her eyes squinted tightly shut.  Praying for all she's worth.  Waiting to hear that they've arrived at their destination and it's time to act.

Wren is indeed driving, keeping to a route that moves them towards the target location without spending time on any of the streets leading directly to the target location. The windows in the residence are extremely easy to keep an eye out from, so her aim is to circumvent this by arriving on the opposite side of the block of their destination, where a combination of contracts should keep the group out of sight on approach until it's too late to run.

She's sporting the rounded, white-furred ears of a larger cat and a striped white-and-black feline tail, her eyes bearing the slitted pupils of a cat. She's careful to keep her claws off the steering wheel- as they are now, they're liable to shear right through and she'd rather not replace Sturm's wheel.

Sturm is still and quiet for the whole trip out to Robin's safehouse. For her, this mission will hopefully be the last move Robin makes in their months long game of chess, and she's treating it with all the reverence and intensity it deserves. Tonight, the Jotunn is... not quite that. Tonight, she's a Mirrorskin - looking quite like a larger, horned version of Teagan - and her shattered eyepits reflect their surroundings as she watches carefully for trouble along the route to Robin's safehouse. She doesn't join in because she has no tongue for praying, but she's listening carefully to Sigrun - taking some minor comfort in the Valkyrie's prayer as she tucks a broken arrowhead necklace away into her shirt. 

In a few hours? Hopefully the traitor will be dead. Fuckin' finally.

Honestly? Scourge is still finding it hard to believe this is all real. He trusts those present, and is always down for a fight, but he's staying quiet. This whole skulking up to the house isn't his style. He much prefers the noisy approach, kicking down the door and taking names, but Helldivers are tricky.

Glitch's kith and mien have been altered for this mission too, but it's difficult to see any of it under his combat gear. He's wrapped up in a dark outfit of leather covered in riveted plates and square quilting, painted with grays and reds here and there. A matching helmet with a swept dark visor leaves only his mouth exposed, and he's got what looks like a piece of wood strapped to his back. "Just lemme know when I should start fading. It takes too fuckin' long," he mutters quietly. Other than that, he's silent and ready to rock, the black cat emblem of Direct Action glaring out from his chest.

The house is quiet. Maybe too quiet. There's a single light on in the kitchen, toward the back of the house, which lights up the first floor very dimly, a soft glow through the open -- and seemingly empty -- front room of the house.

It may be disconcerting to hear one's name spoken in English mingled in with Sigrun's fluid litany of fluent Faroese mingled with old Norse.  It's hard to tell if she ever actually prays for herself in all of that, because of course she doesn't name herself as she prays.  But each one of the group is mentioned no less than four times each as the prayer continues.  When at last she's prayed her fill, she tucks her rune back under her collar and rests her head back against the glass of the cab to stare at the retreating city.  Her jaw is set, her eyes steeled and ice cold.  Once Wren signals that they've reached the debarkation point, Sigrun hops over the side of the truck onto the sidewalk, adopts as stealthy a crouch as she can even considering the magic on her, and crab walks up to the door, motioning for the next in line to check the rear of the building for a back or side door and taps her ear piece, making it clear they're to radio back what they find.

Wren parks the truck on the opposite side of the block from their destination. If they cut through the property they stop in front of, they'll end up behind the house they're heading to- they should have a very easy time finding the back door once they move.

"Give me just a second, guys. I can get a look at what's happening on both sides, but it's gonna be expensive and it'll help a lot if you just gimme time to get ready and go." In short, she needs a minute to slip Light-Shy without being seen, Dive, and then investigate. They can, of course, go immediately- she has no way of stopping them- but it's what she asks for, and she'll only spend the Glamour to Light-Shy immediately if there's no sign of waiting.

There's a light tap inside the cabin as Sturm drums her fingers on the back window - a signal to Wren that everyone has exited the Truck's bed and is ready to move. The mirror-jotunn follows Sigrun up the drive, casting a long shadow - despite the fact that she's crouching - that somehow manages to enshroud the entire participating kill team, save for Wren. She adjusts her earpiece, keeping to the shadows - waiting for the little chimera to radio back with whether or not anything is happening in Twilight that might impede their assault. She turns her gaze down along the left-hand side of the house.

Do her special eyes see anything?

"She's upstairs. The lights are off, but I can see her - or something that seems like like her - outline. Sitting in a chair." Sturm's voice comes in quiet over the comms. "The blinds just rustled a bit in that room, we might be compromised... but. It could just be she's jittery and looking." Beat. "Anything in twilight?"

She turns, heading back around towards the front of the house - airing on the side of caution. Just in case they need to get the door open quickly.

Grimacing at the note that they might have been caught out already, Wren goes ahead and ducks down like she dropped something, letting her swallow the cost for going Light-Shy, waiting only the second or three her Wyrd demands to let her invoke a Dive and sneak towards the house to get a look at it from Twilight, looking for possible Robin allies or other assorted dangers.

Sigrun stacks behind Sturm at the front door, since Sturm's job is to deal with the lock and gaining control of the house.  Her task is to make sure she's really in there, and if she's there which figure in the house is actually her.  And then to charge in and murder Robin, naturally.  At present, however, all Sigrun can do is wait near the front of the building.  She presses a hand to her throat radio, "We need to cover the exits, people."

It's Fishtown: there are ghosts of all stripes and all ages in Twilight. This is one of the oldest sections of Philadelphia, down by the river, and there's a faded shape of something like a woman walking up and down the street toward the corner. A cluster of tiny trash gafflings skitters through an alleyway. 

Speaking of skittering... don't listen to hard. You might hear rats.
 
Glitch falls in quietly behind Sigrun and Sturm, listening. At talk of covering the exits he glances around, considering side windows he might be able to cover. Wren's the only one twilight-side right now, and he hovers a hand near his sword already.

Scourge keeps low, keeping a watch on the upper window as well as he can. If this means lagging behind, that's fine. He's got their back.

Not that anyone can see it but Wren is gone and back in record time. There's a quiet voice over comms. "Plenty of ghosts, thry look native. One is pacing the street, could be its habit. Some tiny garbage elementals, and I think I heard rats. If she has allies, they're this side or well hidden."

"Scourge, fan out to the right - I want eyes on any back or side exits. Glitch take the left-hand side and do the same. I'm not cracking the lock until we have eyes on those exit points." Maybe being a little more direct with her team will achieve the desired results. Sometimes when people hear a generalized instruction, it doesn't stick that they are the ones receiving it.

Scourge nods, staying silent as he falls back, watching the back of the house as instructed.

"This residence belongs to me, my comrades, and the Shackamaxon Freehold - and the Oathbreaker that's squatting here deserves nothing.  Welcome me home, and I'll try not to get blood on the floors," comes Sturm's grumbling voice over the comms. Just whispering a few sweet nothings to the house - once everyone's in position. Y'know. As you do.

The lock opens with a sound as soft as a feather landing on freshly-tilled earth as the old house welcomes Sturm. Hostile Takeover... taken over.

Wren keeps her head on a pivot- she's fast enough that she doesn't need to be right up with the others, and keeping back means she has a broad view of the house and its surroundings, and perhaps even a heads up should Robin try to bolt. She shivers in the shade of Light-Shy, hating just about everything about this besides the imminent increased safety for her and hers. Right now, her focus is fully on trying to ensure that nothing evades or surprises her allies.

"It didn't even fight me. Let's move," Sturm mutters to Sigrun - gesturing for the Valkyrie to follow. "Scourge. Glitch. Wren. Hold position, and maintain radio silence unless someone tries to go in or out. I can only keep two people off of whatever cameras there might be, so let's try not to leave behind any more evidence than we have to," more hushed orders over the comms. 

... and then she opens the door all the way, and steps inside - taking careful footsteps, and barely making a sound.

Over the coms Sigrun whispers, "She might dive out the front window onto the porch.  Wren, watch for that, since you're covering her if she bugs out."  Sigrun holds out her hand for the Thing so that she can enact her part of The Plan.  She slips in behind Sturm when she hands the Thing over, her own glamour flaring as she makes good on her part of all of this: making sure that the target is actually where they think she is.

Glitch mutters back over the headset as quiet as he can. "Confirmed. Someone on front?" He stays leaned up against the side of the door, clinging to the shadows.

"I'm on the back" comes the growl from Scourge. "No sign of movement yet, but I'm ready for her." His claws tense slightly, looking even more wicked than they normally do.

A brief, sharp flash of Robin, staring forward -- there's the sensation that she's locking eyes with Sigrun, but of course, that can't be. It's just the way the Valkyrie sees her at the moment -- dark eyes staring out of a shadowed face in a dark room. Sitting in a chair. Something in her lap. It's almost like she's a powered-down cyborg. Just waiting, perhaps. Upstairs.

"She is on premises.  Upstairs.  In the chair, not the bed.  She's holding something in her lap.  Might be an explosive.  Be careful.  The rest of you may want to move back some.  We're going for a closer look."  Sigrun advances very, very carefully.  Very slowly through the house, checking for tripwires and the like, making sure the floor boards can take her weight, going up the stairs with her feet near the walls rather than in the center.  Any trick she ever learned sneaking down the stairs for cookies?  She's using now.  The blade she carries is still at her hip, though her buckler is in her left hand.  Ready to react to what she may find as they move closer to their target.

''Gods''. Wren is a wire sculpture of tension, on edge all over. She keeps her distance, watching the area, trying desperately to puzzle out why in the world things make so little sense. She's just sitting upstairs? They'd seen the curtains move, right? Why would she be just sitting around? Nothing sat right and the clever little Beast was getting more and more agitated trying to figure out what in the hell she was missing.

Sturm follows closely behind Sigrun - her footsteps falling in close to the same places as she makes sure not to let the Valkyrie get too far ahead of her. "Fuck," Sturm grumbles into the comms. She doesn't have Relentless Pursuit, so this is Sigrun's leg of the operation. She opens and closes her hands - currently wrapped in heavy leather gloves to keep her prints off of anything, and for perhaps some small measure of protection against any iron Robin might bring to bear. "We may be walking into a trap - keep your eyes open and stay frosty."

A shiver runs down Sturm's spine. "There's something supernatural up here besides us," a crackled whisper over the headset.

Glitch slowly moves away from the wall of the house at an angle, glancing around and trying to see if there's a low wall he could use as cover. When the next bit comes, he turns his attention up towards the top level, staring at one of the second floor windows with a grimace.

Scourge does his best to prepare, but without activating Relentless Pursuit himself, which feels like it would be redundant at best, there isn't really any information that he can get. The waiting is the worst part, though.

"There's a really good chance it's a ghost, but it could be something else."

She leaves it at that. Wren is on the balls of her feet, just as ready to sprint after a target as beat feet for safety.

Well. Maybe not JUST as ready.

She peeks up over the lip of the stairs, into the hallway and the door beyond. There's a shape down the hallway, in that room, sitting. Ever-so-still. Sigrun sees the red light in Robin's lap before the Valkyrie ducks her head back down.

"I think that's a camera.   Not a bomb.  I need to get a closer look.  I can Dive and walk right down that hallway and rematerialize in the room behind or beside her.  I can try to overwhelm her psyche and freeze her in place, then take whatever she's holding.  We may want more help in here if we take that route, however, in case I fail."  Sigrun remains in place, looking up to Sturm to check her opinion after putting out that call.  She doesn't act or begin to fade yet.  This is an unexpected curve ball.

''Twitch Livestream''

User Dreamcatcher99 has come online

The room is dark. The stream is dark. It's a dark room, the camera facing toward the stairs. 

There's nothing... yet.

''Livestream continues''

"White Tiger," psst Wren. That's you. "Do me a favor and get our Chill Decker on the phone - have her look for a live stream, or any kind of in-progress upload. If that's a camera, I bet it's streaming." Then she mutters to Sigrun, gesturing for her to take a step back down. "Hold off on that for a second."

Glitch takes out his phone in the dark after it silently vibrates, glancing at the screen with the brightness already cranked down. He stares a moment before his whisper hisses over the earpiece. "Are you fucking kidding me."(edited)

Sigrun hunkers down in the stairwell, crouched and ready.  She nods to Sturm and cools her jets, taking a moment to double check her gear, armor, and equipment and make sure nothing is out of place or lost.  Every second counts, and every mistake counts double.

Wren's phone blinks a notification- no vibrate or noise- and she checks it, hissing hurriedly. "She's livestreaming herself on Twitch."

"Get our Decker to take it down ASAP. You didn't see Valkyrie's head on it, did you?" Another low grumble from Sturm over the comms.(edited)

"Already asking."

Sigrun decidedly hopes her head did not appear on a live stream.  This isn't even her good side.  She finishes her gear check and resumes her patient crouch on the stairs.

"I can take out the power," Glitch hisses over the headset. "Give the word."

''User Dreamcatcher99 is offline.''

"Affirmative, standing by" comes the quiet beep over the phone. Glitch inches towards the power meter itself under stealth, sticking to the shadows and the wall of the house once more.(edited)

Sigrun is clearly trying not to be agitated by being idled this close to their target.  She's already done a gear check, though, to clear her mind.  And she's already prayed for everyone.  All she has is waiting, listening to the radio, and keeping her eyes acclimated to the darkness as much as she's able.  There's still a red-dot shaped hole in her night vision.

There's a subtle sound from the room down the hall, a sharp intake of breath, and a whispered word. "Shit. What the fuck."

The sound of something shifting, and a half-second later, the start-up jingle for a phone.

"It's down. Confirmed. You have until she gets her devices up again. GO."

Sigrun rises from her crouch and balances on her presently empty right hand, ready to make a sprint for it.  Just waiting on the go-ahead at this point.  This is Sturm's show.  She's taking deep, slow, measured breaths.  Which of course means she's not actually calm, just making her body act that way.

Glitch hears the word. There's a snap of Glamour in the air and the buzz of arcing electricity as he surrounds himself with his familiar element. It dances on his face beneath his armor and runs down the rivulets and metal places on his arm to his fingertips. Wrapped in lightning, protected from any mortal voltage, he reaches out, grabs hold of the box, and tells the mains power coming in to Robin's house to go fuck itself.(edited)

The electricity doesn't hurt Glitch. The power meter blows, the transformer exploding, and electricity arcs along the lines, up the side of the house. A pop. A crackle. 

Fire.

Wren shoves another minute portion of her tiny amount of personal magic into a burgeoning spell and puts her tiny little body into motion, rushing forwards. She's invisible, so nobody gets to see her explode across the distance between herself and the house, charging in and making her way towards the tip of their spear as fast as her little legs can move her.

The thing about working in construction is that you have access to demolition exposives. The thing about being a paranoid Winter knowing people are after you is that sometimes you have warning... somehow.

It would help her 'die and rot' if she blew up, after all. 

Robin's sitting in a chair. That's a button in her hand. That's wires. That thing in her lap? That looks like explosives.

Sigrun springs into action, up and off in a full blown sprint.  Her usual tendency is to scream the name of her Goddess at times like this.  But she doesn't.  They're still operating under stealth, after all.  She changes her tactic when she realizes it is in fact a fucking bomb.  Her new buckler is tossed to the side of the hallway to hopefully land out of the path of trampling feet.  She doesn't think about it, she just acts.  Her right hand aims for the soft bit under Robin's jaw and her left grabs for the dead man switch.  There's a satisfying shlorp, followed by a hollow thump as her blade passes through the woman's head and neck and buries itself into the wall behind it.  With a hand on the bomb, she can't radio in the predicament.  And with her other hand pinning a sword through the target's head, she can't really do much more than look the woman in the eyes and watch the realization set in.  "You are for Valhalla."  She is holding a weapon, after all.

There's long enough for a hiss of intaken breath before the sword slides into her throat, and Robin suddenly can't move anything beneath her jaw. There's the subtle movement of her mouth, words that can't actually find voice anymore, but every villain gets last words, even if hers are only mouthed:

''It's not over.''

She hears the pop and crackle off towards Glitch's side of the house. "The fuck was that?" Sturm's voice comes in over the comms this time - but she doesn't leave herself any time to follow the confused expression with anything concrete before powering up the stairs after Sigrun. The stream is down, she's pissed, and her fists have a long overdue appointment with the Steward of the Midwinter Hearth, but... well, Summer's gonna Summer. While Sigrun wrestles with the deadman switch, Sturm follows up the vicious stab by grabbing either side of Robin's insensate head, and - with her ridiculous strength - wrenches it at an odd angle, producing an audible snap and confirming for the room (plus everyone on comms) exactly why you don't let Sturm get ahold of your head. She then plants a boot on the oathbreaker's back, and then rips the head free from Robin's shoulders with a wet, nasty-ass tearing noise.

"Yeah, Valhalla."  FATALITY. "Fuckin' bitch." 

... and then she tosses Robin's head across the room.

"Fire," Glitch calls over the intercom, backing away from the quickly spreading flames. "House on fire, get out. The transformer blew. Do you need back up?"

"Sturm.  Listen to me.  Open a door to Downtime.  You need to get everyone out of here.  If there's a fire the police will come.  I will drag the bomb and her body to the door and try to get through to the hedge as I let go of the switch.  The house will go, and anyone near here with it."  Sigrun is still holding her hand wrapped around Robin's dead one.  She withdraws her sword from the wall, wipes it on Robin's shoulder, and returns it to its sheathe.  "My buckler is in the hallway.  Retrieve it, please, and toss it into the open gate."  She is by no means celebrating.  "Once you've done that, clear out.  Clear everyone out."

"Yep," Sturm's already moving to the hallway to retrieve Sigrun's shield as she practically yells into the comms. "Everyone converge upstairs. Robin's down, but there's a bomb with a deadman switch. It's under control, but we're all going to need to exit into Direct Action's hollow - get the fuck up here ASAP."

"Shit," Sturm hisses. "Check her pocket for a phone - or something." Beat. "Tiger, take the truck and go."

Scourge sighs, then starts running. He doesn't stop for anything in the way, just bashes through any door as he makes his way to his teammates. 

"Grab any gear she's got!" Wren hisses into the headsets as she turns and about-faces, blitzing back out of the house to the truck at top invisible speed, getting the truck in gear and going, looking to put as much distance between her and the house before it goes up, infinitely grateful for the masks they'd all been advised to wear. This was very much not how she did things- quietly in, quietly out, leave the body for someone else to find. Fires? Bombs? So far from her style as possible. Her heart is pounding as fast as her feet, and the sooner she can get the truck away, she does.

Wren adds, "Decker wants any retrievable tech possible!"

"I am holding.  A bomb."  Sigrun says very calmly but very clearly into the radio as she depresses her throat mic.  She does find the phone in Robin's lap from the live stream and tosses it aside so that Sturm can collect it.

Glitch is running to the front of the house as Sturm's voice blares into his ear. Dismissing his electric armor lest anything else catch fire, he breaks into a sprint, shoving through the front door. He nearly leaps up the staircase, legs slamming loudly into the steps as he reaches the upstairs scene. Just inside the doorway, he whips his head around to note the scene of carnage and Sigrun holding the bomb. His mouth is set in a grimace of pure nervousness. "I can freeze it," he yells out. "Until we get out."

"Okay.    Try that.  Then you need to get into Downtime and out onto the trod.  Once everyone is clear, I'll join you."  Sigrun is, however, staying right where she, kneeling in front of the chair holding hands with a headless corpse.  "I'm not letting go of this switch until everyone is clear."

Wren shoves herself into the drivers seat and suddenly has a brain flash. "Wait! Don't let go of the switch. Get everyone clear then DIVE. The moment you start, anything that's not magic is gonna pass straight through you. Is the bomb magic?"

"Thank fuck," Sturm breathes a sigh of relief at Glitch's statement. She's got Sigrun's buckler in her hand, and proceeds to grab the phone, the camera Robin had been holding in her lap, and - she notices something out of the corner of her eye, rushing over to the laptop and tablet. "I really don't want to leave you here with a fucking *bomb, but." She grumbles at Sigrun before heading over to the closet door with her arms full of tech junk, and doing the special knock to enter Downtime. Glamour pours from her knuckles, opening the path for Scourge.

"You can grab the next bomb," Sigrun responds with fast waning patience, "I'm being pragmatic.  Glitch's plan will work.  But if it doesn't, there's no sense in us all going up in smoke."  Sigrun presses her mic again and answers over the radio, "Good idea.  I'll try that.  Get clear, though.  And ditch my truck.  I'll head for the Autumn hollow, pop out in Lansdale, and hit a bar up that way.  In an hour or two I'll call my truck in stolen.  Dump it in a river, I don't care.  If there's a fire and someone saw the plates it'll point back to me.  I'll need to set up an alibi."

Scourge seems to be muttering a constant stream of obscenities as he steps toward the doorway, glancing around to see if there's anything else that could be useful to grab. If there isn't, he goes through into a bit of the Hedge he's never seen before.

Glitch shoves both hands straight up in the air, then sweeps his right arm down in a circle, halting it dead barely above the horizontal. "Pause," he intones, eyes focused directly on the bomb itself, the charges. "Okay. It....should be timelocked. Try to move it. It should hold until I cancel it..." But it's not very easy to see on something so small and non-moving. He makes his way to the doorway, stepping through as requested.

"Alright, I'm going. Please be careful. We can all get out of this. Just Dive with the trigger and it'll set it off once it can't read the trigger anymore." Wren starts the truck again and starts driving off, taking mental notes to wipe down the door handle and the steering wheel to make it look like someone was trying not to get caught.

Once the room is well and truly clear, Sigrun lets out a huff of breath and mutters, "Freyja, I don't ask this for me but for my friends. They need me around.  If you could cover me this once, I'll make sure the next one goes to you."  With that, Sigrun concentrates and begins to dematerialize.  She squints her eyes shut, expecting an explosion that doesn't come.  And after a few seconds of waiting, when she's well and truly dematerialized, Sigrun rises up to her feet and backs away from the mess she made, continuing to face her potential doom as she backs for the open door to the hedge.  She doesn't STOP staring until she's through the door and the door is shut behind her.

Once she's clear, she begins to dive back into reality.  Or what passes for reality in the hedge, heading for the exit from Downtime to their Trod as her body is still gaining corporeal form.


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