If Emma attacks the door directly, it's a standard Strength + Brawl attack, with a +1 equipment bonus for her Lethal claws, minus the door's durability of 2.
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If Emma attacks the door directly, it's a standard Strength + Brawl attack, with a +1 equipment bonus for her Lethal claws, minus the door's durability of 2.
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Emma goes for the door in attack mode. The noises from the other side spur her on. Once she gets the door open she bounds in.
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OOC
If Aοleen had still had any lingering illusion that she would survive the fight, they were now gone. The whirlwind of blades and cruelty in front of her was not abating in the least, and seemed indeed even more intent than before on seeing her ripped to pieces, if that glaze was any indication. And to say she had feared Fire so much... how ironic...
With no real fight left in her, the Shadow still tried to cling to life and stagger toward the mouth of the room. She still had so much to do. David...
"Wait ! I hid it !" she said pleading for her un-life, and hoping against all hope it would deter the woman from severing her head.
A singular cry of frustration erupts from David as he tries and fails to help Emma to break the door down.
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I've knocked Emma's string of rolling down to taking 5 turns, or 15 seconds, to claw through the door with All-Out Attacks.
"We'll see," the woman hisses in response, as she chases Aileen down the short hall toward the door holding back the Kindred cat. Leading with the stiletto, this time, it plunges deep into Aileen's back. The lights in the Mekhet's conscious mind go out in an instant, as she falls to Torpor.
This, David hears, even above the sounds of his own ineffective fury. There is a second impact, a visceral hacking sound, and a soft, heavy thump.
Immediately after, the collapse of a body, and the hurried, impatient rustling of clothing.
Boots scuff rapidly away.
Finally, the door splinters enough to permit Emma and David to pass awkwardly through. There's no way to make the transition gracefully. Enough of the door remains to allow the bracing pipes to stiffly impede any entrance that is efficient. Unless you are perhaps an acrobat or Traceur.
The mass of a body, clothes slashed to shreds and thoroughly rummaged-through, lays nearby. Utterly inert. The limbs are splayed in the awkward angles of a marionette whose strings have been suddenly cut.
A dark, shaggy mass rests coldly down the way, a few feet in the other direction.
Aileen McFarlane's severed head.
Once Aileen goes Torpid, she loses her Defense and permits the second attack by the antagonist to be a killing blow. Which takes her from 9L well into full Aggravated Damage. Aileen suffers the Final Death.
This is how the world ends.
Not with a bang or a whimper. But, with unequivocal loss the like none have ever seen. The like that so many Kindred believe they can't feel anymore. It's a lie. The mantra said by Kindred so many times hoping to make it true, that they can't feel emotions or that they are echos, is a lie. What goes through David is a tempest of sorrow in a tea-cup.
The world slows. He sees things only in images. David sees himself running over. He sees himself falling to his knees cradling Aileen's head, whispering, No... over and over like a prayer, Please! no... no... Aileen, he intersperses, Please! I love you, please.
The Libitinarius can hold his beast in check by the grace of something.
But, David doesn't want to.
David and the Shrike are of accord for once.
A cry of anguish and anger and grief echo through the chamber as David's consciousness slides deeper into the recesses of the darkness of his mind; handing himself over to the Shrike.
David spends 1WP to Ride the Beast
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Emma falls through the door and sees Aileen' s body, then her bodiless head. Emma feels her beast grow stronger with the knowledge that one of their own has died. She forgets that she is with David and goes into hunt mode. She is determined to hunt for the villain who has done this. Enough is enough! How many disappearances and deaths do they need to endure. What good is being immortal if everyone keeps dying or leaving. Emma runs down a hall at top speed. No idea as to what she is running after, no thought for the danger. All she knows is that she has had enough!
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In the distance, just around the corner into the open expanse of the room, comes the grating sound of steel pins and hinges. The groaning of a pair of heavy doors being thrown open in great haste.
And not too long after that? The explosive, throaty growl of a motorcycle engine roaring to life.
By the time Emma's furry form makes it into view (mere seconds) she spots the woman.
Her shapely form, grasped tightly be well-contoured leathers, a satchel over her shoulder, straddles a rumbling two-wheeled BMW. There is a short, aggressive shotgun in her non-throttle hand, and she's about to gun it. The sword has been relagated to a place behind the small of her back. Probably only tucked into the space between her hip and where the satchel rests against it.
It appears as though one of the freight containers attached to the docks of the warehouse was not as long-forgotten and abandoned as it was made to appear. Because it now stands open, with the woman and her getaway vehicle primed for launch inside. Beyond her, a vertical crack of light appears at the other end of the container as someone begins opening it from the outside.
A dark helmet now conceals the assassin's expression, as she glances back over her shoulder at the backup that arrived too late.
Safety first.
Dillon Connery isn't here to stop it this time.
In a show of tenderness, David gingerly sets Aileen's head in her own lap. It is the last thing David does before he shuts his eyes and lets go. He doesn't register Emma rushing down the hallway past him at incredible speeds. The Shrike is keyed in on its target: the sound of boots quickly running from the scene of their crime.
The very picture of pain and ineffectual anger, the Shrike snaps into a run through the hallway down towards the two-story chamber. It may not be as quick as the Mountain Lion Emma, but it is feeding off of the grief that is far more overwhelming. Atavistic violence is written into every motion and movement the Shrike makes.
It stops at every door on the way, Screaming in its incandescent fury; finding every door locked. Things are knocked over. Steel tumbles, echoing through the chamber. It wants to yell, command them to come out. But, it doesn't have words to speak. Just a desire to see the person who killed his lover impaled upon a thorny wooden spike.
The explosive sound of the motorcycle pricks the Shrike's ears and David's head snaps towards the last door, still swinging.
Without the ability to run between the moments in time, even the Shrike knows that it has probably lost its target and it shrieks once more.
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Emma ignores all danger and continues her advance. She would be damned if this woman escaped unscathed. She lunges towards the motorcycle aiming for the tires in hopes of flipping the bike and throwing the passenger. She lets out a deep growl reminiscent of a cat guarding her prey, for her its that her prey is right there in front of her. Emma isn't sure if she ants her dead or she wants answers. The beast inside rivals the furry form she is in. A huntress protecting her family. No one hurts her family and lives.
(Skeleton Keys) Keyhole
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