Reasonable Force To Reckon With

[[ OC roleplay blog for a wizard detective named Cornelius Vidal, from an alternate universe where magic is open and the supernatural has integrated into society. 33, professional warlock part of the New Jersey police force, magic branch. A fish out of water in a dimension that isn't his own. ]]

[disposabledxrlingz]

The diner was practically empty. Other than a few truck drivers who drank coffee and ate pancakes or eggs. Mayu took out her tablet on the table and passed it over to Vidal, “His name is Rorik. An old Plague Doctor who believes in immortality. He steals the organs and souls from his victims to summon forth a ritual to give himself extra years of life. He performs this ritual every hundred years. So if we don’t stop him now, we might not have a chance to see him again.”

She also pulled out an ID. Mayu Devang, Millennium City, CA.

“You need my social security number too? Maybe an electric bill? What will it take for you to trust me?”

The information on the tablet was as follows. Name: Rorik Class: D Crimes: Murder, Necromancy, assault, mass genocide. The rest was his history. When he was born. And how he learned Necromancy during his travels around the plague. Instead of saving lives, he made it his goal to revive them to learn more about immortality through dissection and alchemical algorithms.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Vidal read over the tablet, taking in the information, listening to Mayu still. Finally, something he was more familiar with. Necromancy itself wasn’t illegal where he was from, but it was regulated. People had to do it right, or hire someone who could. Bringing back the kids’ pet dog was one thing, but reviving a dead relative? That’d be a lot of paperwork, and probably someone very expensive being called in.

Professional necromancers had to fill out almost as much paperwork as the police did. And then they had to regularly monitor whatever they’d brought back. No one needed another plague.

“I don’t trust anyone who’s not related to me by blood or marriage, or earned it on the job.”

Didn’t look up while he was speaking. Finished reading up on this ‘Rorik’ before he finally got around to looking at Mayu’s ID card.

Incredulous laughter bubbled up through his chest, and he set the tablet down, one hand over his face. Swore quietly in Spanish before fixing one eye on Mayu.

“What the fuck is with your family? Are you just everywhere?”

[disposabledxrlingz]

Couldn’t there be one person in this world that didn’t know her mother? In so many ways it was annoying to have the last name, Devang. It either brought trouble, or made people like her due to knowing her mother. Either way, she sighed and placed a hand over her eyes,

“Any fucking way. I think we should check out the middle section of the ten point star. Start our investigation there. But no killing! I have to bring this guy in alive.”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

The laws of the universe were apparently stacked against you, Mayu.

Even if he knew her mother, Vidal sure as hell didn’t trust Mayu as far as he could throw her. Didn’t trust any of them, really. Relied on Devang because he didn’t have another choice. Liked Cavalu because he seemed like a good kid. Didn’t trust them not to stab him if it served them though.

But, he wanted this guy off the streets.

Raised an eyebrow at the ‘no killing’ stipulation. “I’m guessing there’s a reward? Whatever.” Didn’t seem like the kind of person into charity. But hey. Wasn’t like he wanted to kill anyone.

“Who did you say you work for again?”

[disposabledxrlingz]

The diner was practically empty. Other than a few truck drivers who drank coffee and ate pancakes or eggs. Mayu took out her tablet on the table and passed it over to Vidal, “His name is Rorik. An old Plague Doctor who believes in immortality. He steals the organs and souls from his victims to summon forth a ritual to give himself extra years of life. He performs this ritual every hundred years. So if we don’t stop him now, we might not have a chance to see him again.”

She also pulled out an ID. Mayu Devang, Millennium City, CA.

“You need my social security number too? Maybe an electric bill? What will it take for you to trust me?”

The information on the tablet was as follows. Name: Rorik Class: D Crimes: Murder, Necromancy, assault, mass genocide. The rest was his history. When he was born. And how he learned Necromancy during his travels around the plague. Instead of saving lives, he made it his goal to revive them to learn more about immortality through dissection and alchemical algorithms.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Vidal read over the tablet, taking in the information, listening to Mayu still. Finally, something he was more familiar with. Necromancy itself wasn’t illegal where he was from, but it was regulated. People had to do it right, or hire someone who could. Bringing back the kids’ pet dog was one thing, but reviving a dead relative? That’d be a lot of paperwork, and probably someone very expensive being called in.

Professional necromancers had to fill out almost as much paperwork as the police did. And then they had to regularly monitor whatever they’d brought back. No one needed another plague.

"I don’t trust anyone who’s not related to me by blood or marriage, or earned it on the job.”

Didn’t look up while he was speaking. Finished reading up on this ‘Rorik’ before he finally got around to looking at Mayu’s ID card.

Incredulous laughter bubbled up through his chest, and he set the tablet down, one hand over his face. Swore quietly in Spanish before fixing one eye on Mayu.

“What the fuck is with your family? Are you just everywhere?”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

The patches and shapes meant nothing to him. As far as Vidal was concerned, anyone could have something like that knocked together in China town for $5.

He did bring his badge out though, when she mentioned.

“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. And like I said before, I don’t know who this Rorik guy is.”

“Aside from this Rorik guy, what makes you think you have any information worth having?” Knew this wasn’t the right way to get intel. Knew he was just being a dick. But, so help him, he was ticked off.

[disposabledxrlingz]

“First off, quit being a fuck nugget for two minutes. Second, if you’re a Warlock, then you’re more useful to the case than I thought.”

She showed the tablet to Vidal. A map of the city showed all ten points where the murders happened. She took a screen shot and drew a ten point star with her finger.

“Now does that look like a coincidence to you, or the makings of a ritual? Either way, I believe this should tell us where he’ll be next.”

She made a face as she put away the tablet, “And since when did Warlocks work for the police departments? Just curious.”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

He looked at the screen, silently cursing because she was right. Some dim little flutter of hope tried to convince him that maybe this was the same asshole who’d sent him here in the first place, and this was the ritual that would send him home.

But people were dying. Being murdered.

He grumbled quietly to himself, looked back over to the scene. Fixed his gaze on her, then slid his hands into his coat.

“Warlocks have always been on the force. I’m not from around here, technically speaking.” That was all he offered on the subject before he pulled out a paper and pen, drawing a rough sketch of the city limits and the star, added in a few main roads. He remembered a few old cases, some briefings from the research personnel and sources, his basic training.

“It depends on what he’s doing with the ritual. If it’s to summon something, he’s probably going to be in one of these outer legs, or going to make himself a big circle of power outside. If he’s channelling something in, or sending something out, he’ll probably be in the middle. At least, that’s how it is where I’m from.”

[disposabledxrlingz]

“I suggest we talk more about this somewhere else. Unless of course you still don’t trust me.”

A part of her put together a few things from what he said. He definitely wasn’t from this world. Mayu was well versed with that sort of thing. Then again, maybe she was wrong.

“There’s a diner not too far from here. I can share in more details if you want to hear more.”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

“I definitely don’t trust you, but I at least agree we should take this elsewhere.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh for a moment, weighing things up. “Show me where your diner is.”

Might as well see what other info she had.

“You got a name?”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

The patches and shapes meant nothing to him. As far as Vidal was concerned, anyone could have something like that knocked together in China town for $5.

He did bring his badge out though, when she mentioned.

“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. And like I said before, I don’t know who this Rorik guy is.”

“Aside from this Rorik guy, what makes you think you have any information worth having?” Knew this wasn’t the right way to get intel. Knew he was just being a dick. But, so help him, he was ticked off.

[disposabledxrlingz]

“First off, quit being a fuck nugget for two minutes. Second, if you’re a Warlock, then you’re more useful to the case than I thought.”

She showed the tablet to Vidal. A map of the city showed all ten points where the murders happened. She took a screen shot and drew a ten point star with her finger.

“Now does that look like a coincidence to you, or the makings of a ritual? Either way, I believe this should tell us where he’ll be next.”

She made a face as she put away the tablet, “And since when did Warlocks work for the police departments? Just curious.”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

He looked at the screen, silently cursing because she was right. Some dim little flutter of hope tried to convince him that maybe this was the same asshole who’d sent him here in the first place, and this was the ritual that would send him home.

But people were dying. Being murdered.

He grumbled quietly to himself, looked back over to the scene. Fixed his gaze on her, then slid his hands into his coat.

“Warlocks have always been on the force. I’m not from around here, technically speaking.” That was all he offered on the subject before he pulled out a paper and pen, drawing a rough sketch of the city limits and the star, added in a few main roads. He remembered a few old cases, some briefings from the research personnel and sources, his basic training.

“It depends on what he’s doing with the ritual. If it’s to summon something, he’s probably going to be in one of these outer legs, or going to make himself a big circle of power outside. If he’s channelling something in, or sending something out, he’ll probably be in the middle. At least, that’s how it is where I’m from.”

[disposabledxrlingz]

“Are you working with Rorik?”

She growled right back. Her pupils slit and eyes went violet. She wasn’t about to cause a scene, but this guy gave off a magical aura. One that she never felt before.

Her instincts told her to let go of the gun and let the other see her hands. Sap gloves on her hands for hand to hand combat.

“Ten people are dead. If you know anything about it then I suggest you speak up.” She wasn’t being harsh with her tone. Gentle. Gentle was sometimes even worse than a harsh tone.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

“Who the hell is Rorik?” he snapped, though he regretted it after. Hated losing his temper and letting things slip like that. Maybe this Rorik guy was important?

When her tone dropped, his eyebrow raised. Hated that tactic. Reminded him of teachers in school, or a succubus before she was going to try and rip your kidneys out.

“Who’re you, a cop?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

[disposabledxrlingz]

“Something like that.”

There was a patch on her combat jacket sleeve. A white diamond shapped emblem with a black dragon symbol in the middle. The words Guardian Knight Private Class written below the emblem.

“I work on the cases that the humans can’t do on their own. Specifications on this case are classified.”

She’d get in trouble if she talked about the case. Unless. “If you happened to be a form of law enforcement yourself, I could happen to share the information with you. Unless of course you’re working for Rorik and in that case, I’d have to arrest you under Universal Protocol 867. And neither of us really want that.”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

The patches and shapes meant nothing to him. As far as Vidal was concerned, anyone could have something like that knocked together in China town for $5.

He did bring his badge out though, when she mentioned.

“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. And like I said before, I don’t know who this Rorik guy is.”

“Aside from this Rorik guy, what makes you think you have any information worth having?” Knew this wasn’t the right way to get intel. Knew he was just being a dick. But, so help him, he was ticked off.

[disposabledxrlingz]

“Are you working with Rorik?”

She growled right back. Her pupils slit and eyes went violet. She wasn’t about to cause a scene, but this guy gave off a magical aura. One that she never felt before.

Her instincts told her to let go of the gun and let the other see her hands. Sap gloves on her hands for hand to hand combat.

“Ten people are dead. If you know anything about it then I suggest you speak up.” She wasn’t being harsh with her tone. Gentle. Gentle was sometimes even worse than a harsh tone.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

“Who the hell is Rorik?” he snapped, though he regretted it after. Hated losing his temper and letting things slip like that. Maybe this Rorik guy was important?

When her tone dropped, his eyebrow raised. Hated that tactic. Reminded him of teachers in school, or a succubus before she was going to try and rip your kidneys out.

“Who’re you, a cop?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

[disposabledxrlingz]

The body was was cut open like a deer during hunting season. Police surrounded the area with yellow tape and a tarp that covered the body. The police were used to this sort of thing. Finding bodies in Millennium City was just another day on the job. Fortunately, most of them are desensitized by this sort of stuff. The newer officers have no idea that it’s the workings of a madman. The MO is always the same. Missing body parts. This time it was the heart.

Mayu stood outside the yellow tape with the other onlookers. Her shades over her eyes so that nobody in the police force knew to look her way. If they saw her, the older officers would probably question her on what happened. Sometimes it’s better to not let them into the loop. It saves peoples lives. The less you know, the better.

She stared at the alleyway. Energy coursed around her forehead to form a blue transparent eye, the Third Eye. A family learned trait to see things that others couldn’t see. Fortunately for her, normal people wouldn’t be able to see the eye. Her third sight caught the aura of the culprit. Red colors mixed with a massive cloud of black. Footsteps lead out, but it seemed like the tracks were erased by the man who caused them.

The third eye vanished. That was all she needed to see. She took out a small tablet and typed in some new clues as to what the assailant did, and where he might strike next. A small map in her notes showed dots where the killer was. Ten murders in a matter of a month after the mass hullucinations of the creature known as the Plague Doctor. Otherwise known as Rorik. An ancient mage who specializes in everything in the dark artes. And probably worse.

She put the tablet back in her messenger bag until she noticed someone in the crowd who noticed her. Did they see her third eye? Do they work for the police? Do they work for Rorik?

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Being on his own in a strange-yet-not-entirely-unfamiliar place, without the support of a proper police force behind him, without anything more official in this place than his power, had forced Vidal to get desperate. He felt like an ambulance chaser, winding around looking for yellow tape, listening for blaring sirens and watching for flashing lights. Most crimes weren’t ones that needed his attention, but all he had to do was be patient to find those cases that drifted through the loopholes in the mundane officers’ investigations.

He just wished he was better at being patient.

He’d been following the last few grizzly murders in this particular string of cases. Followed mostly in the back, a concerned onlooker only. At first, he’d thought it just the work of a mundane serial killer, but every time he drew nearer to one of the scenes, his senses started to flare in alarm.

And now he was starting to get an eye for recurring players; the forensic examiners who tended to be on shift, the officer who was running the investigation, a few of the regular detectives. And one woman who was doing her best to stay off everyone else’s radar while she took notes.

That piqued his interest.

It set his interest on fire when he caught the flare of magical energy around her. He wasn’t sensitive enough to get the whole thing, but given the soft glow of power he could see around her head, he was guessing some sort of Sight.

Really, he should have been better about masking his staring, in that case. Didn’t break contact with her when she seemed to take note of him, though.

[disposabledxrlingz]

The other didn’t seem like a hostile, but that didn’t mean shit when it came down to it. You never know who might be working with who. She pushed her sunglasses up and made her way towards the male who caught her attention. She may not be a cop, but it was her job to find the one known as Rorik.

She stood a good foot next to the man, hand inside her formal jacket. Hand tightly gripped on the beretta inside. Just in case the guy did have any motive to harm her. She kept it simple without coming off as on edge,

“What do you think of the murders?”

She whispered. They were in a public place. Neither would try anything within a large group like this. No one was that stupid within the supernatural community. Unless they were looking for a death wish by the Mafia Organizations that ran the city.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

He eyed her as she neared, considering throwing up whatever illusion he could and disappearing into the crowd. Wasn’t enough time, though, and given his poor skills in that area, it wouldn’t be a seamless escape.

Vidal wasn’t one to spill things easily, so he just fixed her with a hard glare.

“Keep walking, chica,” he growled back, keeping an eye on her hands.

There were too many unknowns in this situation. Too many things that could end up with him dead, long before he got to see his family again.

[disposabledxrlingz]

The body was was cut open like a deer during hunting season. Police surrounded the area with yellow tape and a tarp that covered the body. The police were used to this sort of thing. Finding bodies in Millennium City was just another day on the job. Fortunately, most of them are desensitized by this sort of stuff. The newer officers have no idea that it’s the workings of a madman. The MO is always the same. Missing body parts. This time it was the heart.

Mayu stood outside the yellow tape with the other onlookers. Her shades over her eyes so that nobody in the police force knew to look her way. If they saw her, the older officers would probably question her on what happened. Sometimes it’s better to not let them into the loop. It saves peoples lives. The less you know, the better.

She stared at the alleyway. Energy coursed around her forehead to form a blue transparent eye, the Third Eye. A family learned trait to see things that others couldn’t see. Fortunately for her, normal people wouldn’t be able to see the eye. Her third sight caught the aura of the culprit. Red colors mixed with a massive cloud of black. Footsteps lead out, but it seemed like the tracks were erased by the man who caused them.

The third eye vanished. That was all she needed to see. She took out a small tablet and typed in some new clues as to what the assailant did, and where he might strike next. A small map in her notes showed dots where the killer was. Ten murders in a matter of a month after the mass hullucinations of the creature known as the Plague Doctor. Otherwise known as Rorik. An ancient mage who specializes in everything in the dark artes. And probably worse.

She put the tablet back in her messenger bag until she noticed someone in the crowd who noticed her. Did they see her third eye? Do they work for the police? Do they work for Rorik?

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Being on his own in a strange-yet-not-entirely-unfamiliar place, without the support of a proper police force behind him, without anything more official in this place than his power, had forced Vidal to get desperate. He felt like an ambulance chaser, winding around looking for yellow tape, listening for blaring sirens and watching for flashing lights. Most crimes weren’t ones that needed his attention, but all he had to do was be patient to find those cases that drifted through the loopholes in the mundane officers’ investigations.

He just wished he was better at being patient.

He’d been following the last few grizzly murders in this particular string of cases. Followed mostly in the back, a concerned onlooker only. At first, he’d thought it just the work of a mundane serial killer, but every time he drew nearer to one of the scenes, his senses started to flare in alarm.

And now he was starting to get an eye for recurring players; the forensic examiners who tended to be on shift, the officer who was running the investigation, a few of the regular detectives. And one woman who was doing her best to stay off everyone else’s radar while she took notes.

That piqued his interest.

It set his interest on fire when he caught the flare of magical energy around her. He wasn’t sensitive enough to get the whole thing, but given the soft glow of power he could see around her head, he was guessing some sort of Sight.

Really, he should have been better about masking his staring, in that case. Didn’t break contact with her when she seemed to take note of him, though.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

"You seem like a reasonable bloke. You like magic tricks?"

Vidal raised an eyebrow. Wondered if guys who smelled like burnt tobacco and stale bathroom smoke were common for street magicians or if this was some kind of scam.

“Sure, I like magic,” he replied, arms crossed over his chest, tone bordering on mocking.

[johnnyxconstantine-deactivated2]

He flashed a deck of cards in front of the man. He ran his hand over the deck with a petty magic spell. Nothing too fancy or extraordinary. “Now think of a card. Any card. And then keep it to yourself.” He then pulled out a queen of hearts, “Was this the card you were thinking of?”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

He watched, feeling that faint prickle of magic. Well, then. Either this guy was desperate for cash or this was a scam of some sort.

“Yeah, that’s amazing. Got it in one.” His tone was drier than the Mojave desert, and he followed it with some clapping. He might as well play along for now.

[johnnyxconstantine-deactivated2]

He patted the guy on the back with a smile, “Glad I could entertain you.” He had the mans wallet in his other hand and started looking through it, “You’re an organ doner.”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

“Also an organ collector when random men take my things,” he growled back. Hand darted out to try and snatch the wallet and his cards back. “It’s a criminal offence to pickpocket a cop, you know.” Mostly an empty threat, but he was starting to get frustrated, being stuck here, without real support, away from the people and places he cared about.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

[ Open ]

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Vidal sneered and dropped his arm down toward Rune’s legs, firing twice in quick succession. He only had a few rounds left from his department, the holy water and silver bullets, and a few incendiary rounds. First bullet was one of the latter, second was a generic sort he’d bought after arriving in this dimension.

[werecogsinthemachine]

Well. Now his pants were on fire. He’d started taking a step, ignoring the flames when the second round stuck the weakened scales, cracking through and into his leg, sweeping it out from under him. He let out a grunt, along with a string of profanity, as he was spun and hit the ground.

He was just going to lay there now. Maybe wait a minute and see what would happen, clothes still on fire.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

“Bet that tickled,” Vidal hissed, and quickly threw himself over Rune, getting a knee down on his stomach, and trying to restrain his hands. God this guy was a big motherfucker. Vidal wished he had access to Virgil’s supply of enchanted rope.

“Play nice and I’ll put the fire out. Hell, I’ll even make sure we get that looked at when I take you in for murder.” Gestured to the injured leg. He hadn’t exactly figured out where he’d be taking anyone in, but he figured Devang would have some suggestions. 

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

"You seem like a reasonable bloke. You like magic tricks?"

Vidal raised an eyebrow. Wondered if guys who smelled like burnt tobacco and stale bathroom smoke were common for street magicians or if this was some kind of scam.

“Sure, I like magic,” he replied, arms crossed over his chest, tone bordering on mocking.

[johnnyxconstantine-deactivated2]

He flashed a deck of cards in front of the man. He ran his hand over the deck with a petty magic spell. Nothing too fancy or extraordinary. “Now think of a card. Any card. And then keep it to yourself.” He then pulled out a queen of hearts, “Was this the card you were thinking of?”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

He watched, feeling that faint prickle of magic. Well, then. Either this guy was desperate for cash or this was a scam of some sort.

“Yeah, that’s amazing. Got it in one.” His tone was drier than the Mojave desert, and he followed it with some clapping. He might as well play along for now.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

[ Open ]

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

“Fuck you,” he spat, wheezing. He did stay down though, for now, curling in to rub at his side. Discretely grabbing his revolver from its shoulder holster, glaring up at Rune.

“Good thing about cops,” he lied, voice strained, “they don’t work alone. Don’t look up now, asshole.” He waited only a moment before he tried to throw himself into a roll out of immediate strike range and level the gun at Rune’s head.

[werecogsinthemachine]

Rune’s skin pebbled and turned to scales, his mechanical arm popping up to cover his face. The scales could take a round or two before cracking and falling off. His arm was a much better shield. Waiting.

“I’m betting he would have been here by now.”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Vidal sneered and dropped his arm down toward Rune’s legs, firing twice in quick succession. He only had a few rounds left from his department, the holy water and silver bullets, and a few incendiary rounds. First bullet was one of the latter, second was a generic sort he’d bought after arriving in this dimension.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

"You seem like a reasonable bloke. You like magic tricks?"

Vidal raised an eyebrow. Wondered if guys who smelled like burnt tobacco and stale bathroom smoke were common for street magicians or if this was some kind of scam.

“Sure, I like magic,” he replied, arms crossed over his chest, tone bordering on mocking.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

[ Open ]

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Rune definitely had the edge, head-wise. Vidal stumbled back, ears ringing. Dark spots and patches of bright light alternated in his vision. His legs went to jelly, and he went down, pawing along the ground while he tried to gather himself.

He’d have a hell of a bruise there later.

Vidal glanced up at Rune and snarled, bringing out his tungsten-carbide force-issue baton/wand, and lunged desperately, trying to crack it across Rune’s ankle. He was not going to let this asshole beat him. Not easily, anyway.

[werecogsinthemachine]

A police baton. Rune rolled his eyes while the bruise on his own head started to fade, stepping over to Vidal’s side and delivering a swift kick. “Just stay down dude. You got a bite for a human, I’ll give you that.”

Not letting his guard down though. His hand was faintly sparking with a warding spell. Just in case.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

“Fuck you,” he spat, wheezing. He did stay down though, for now, curling in to rub at his side. Discretely grabbing his revolver from its shoulder holster, glaring up at Rune.

“Good thing about cops,” he lied, voice strained, “they don’t work alone. Don’t look up now, asshole.” He waited only a moment before he tried to throw himself into a roll out of immediate strike range and level the gun at Rune’s head.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

[ Open ]

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Vidal crouched down, forming a very rough shield around himself as the building exploded beside him. He formed a sphere of force in his hand, tossing it hard at the man, like he was pitching a baseball. 

He didn’t waste any time in vaulting himself over the bars, aiming to close the distance between them. He was going for a tackle to pin him down.

[werecogsinthemachine]

Now that he was paying attention, Rune leaned forward taking the brunt of the spell in his mechanical shoulder. He’d be feeling that later since the housing was jostled around quite a bit. Then Vidal was running at him.

Rune waited till Vid was in range and stooped, aiming to crack his own forehead against Vid’s head. Made his own ringing head ache worse, but he figured the ceramics reinforcing his own bones gave him a little edge.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Rune definitely had the edge, head-wise. Vidal stumbled back, ears ringing. Dark spots and patches of bright light alternated in his vision. His legs went to jelly, and he went down, pawing along the ground while he tried to gather himself.

He’d have a hell of a bruise there later.

Vidal glanced up at Rune and snarled, bringing out his tungsten-carbide force-issue baton/wand, and lunged desperately, trying to crack it across Rune’s ankle. He was not going to let this asshole beat him. Not easily, anyway.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

[ Open ]

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Vidal steadied himself against the closest wall, eyes trained on the man in front of him. Worst thing to do in a confrontation was lose sight of the opposition.

“Don’t know if things are different over here, but where I’m from cops don’t respond well to threats.” He shifted his stance, weight forward, legs apart. Hands up by the sides of his chest.

“Get on the ground and I’ll make sure I don’t knock off anything important when I take you in.”

[werecogsinthemachine]

Rune took a couple steps forward, till he was next to the building Vidal had hit. “Oh Officer, please, anything but-”

Then he slapped his palm on the wall along with an eruption of magic, causing the rebar to erupt of the wall, forming a jagged barrier in front of and behind Vidal. “That.”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Vidal crouched down, forming a very rough shield around himself as the building exploded beside him. He formed a sphere of force in his hand, tossing it hard at the man, like he was pitching a baseball. 

He didn’t waste any time in vaulting himself over the bars, aiming to close the distance between them. He was going for a tackle to pin him down.

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

[ Open ]

Cornelius Vidal had never been a patient man. Long operations and stings had never been his forte; Virgil had been the only one who’d tolerate him long enough to keep him calm before they were due to enter. On his own now, Vidal was antsy.

And, without someone there to guide his hand and keep him on the right path, he tended to make mistakes.

He’d been chasing something– a vampire, he thought, given the missing throat of the vagrant he’d witnessed being dumped into an open man hole– when he got lost in the warren of back alleys and half-loops and cloistered apartments that made up the city.

Virgil’s voice, that nagging little drone in the back of his mind, told him to stop, wait, go back and try a tracking spell. Vidal pressed on. He told himself he heard something around the next bend.

He wasn’t wrong. Startled by the sudden presence in front of him, Vidal forgot himself, acting on instinct, and let loose a solid wall of kinetic force. He flew back, the force equal to the one he unleashed forward.

[werecogsinthemachine]

JesusChristow, that was the corner of a building his his back.

Try and find another junkie to get off the street, get a face full of magic. Great. Rune shook his head to clear the stars he was seeing as he picked himself up off the ground. “I’m either going to rip you a new one, or leave you for a critter, take your pick now.”

[workingclasswarlock-blog]

Vidal steadied himself against the closest wall, eyes trained on the man in front of him. Worst thing to do in a confrontation was lose sight of the opposition.

“Don’t know if things are different over here, but where I’m from cops don’t respond well to threats.” He shifted his stance, weight forward, legs apart. Hands up by the sides of his chest.

“Get on the ground and I’ll make sure I don’t knock off anything important when I take you in.”