[indent][b][u]2 AM - January 9th 2026 The Angel Nightclub, Hub City[/u][/b][/indent] She was so close now. She'd gotten the cop to talk, just a few needles under the nails did that well enough. He'd given her the phone no problem after that. The contacts list was barren, it was clearly a work phone. There was one message from an unlabelled number. It read "Target address 34 Jury Street, be Discreet. Delete this message." Clearly he hadn't. That suggested a failure to comply. Sure enough, the tenant of said building was in heavy debt to a certain Fisher Brown, a well known loan shark and magitech dealer. It was all coming together. Brown was also the owner of the Angel Nightclub, a less than reputable joint that the cops stayed away from unless they were coming in for their monthly "child support payments". Or at least that's what they called it when they showed up late the next day. "Had to pay child support" they all said, and it worked because every man in that place was as nice to a woman as a dog is to a man whose flesh had been replaced with bacon. That was a strange simile. Maybe she needed to get more sleep. Nah, she had to finish what she started first. She pushed open the doors, having already given the bouncers a firm talking to. [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaGkmAqNlxc]The music[/url] was rather... dark. Parties weren't supposed to sound so... dangerous. The place was filled to the brim and about to burst. People were knocking each-other around in their alcohol fueled stupor and that was funny. Alias would have laughed, promise, but she was more focused on the task at hand. Where was the manager's office now? That would be grand to find. Real fucking grand right about now. "Hey." A voice from the crowd. "Here." An object shoved into her hand. "I know what you're here for, I'll keep in touch." Very interesting. She walked around a bit longer, failing to find the office in the huge crowd, dropping her crowbar and almost losing it as feet kicked and stomped around. Then the object in her hand made a noise. Walkie talkie it seemed. That was a funny name... walkie... talkie... heh, hehe. "Hello Miss Needles." [color=blanchedalmond]"Mister Brown."[/color] "Please, Mister Brown was my uncle, call me Mister Fisher, has a better ring to it, doesn't it?" [color=blanchedalmond]"Funny, I don't recall coming here for rhymes."[/color] "Oho, how droll, you think you know why you came here." He laughed, a rodenty snicker. "Tell me then, why [i]did[/i] you torture my informant, steal my ex-employee's phone, and talk to one of my mistakes?" [color=blanchedalmond]"You're a murderer, a scumbag, and you deserve to die for what you've done."[/color] "Oh god I felt that, you're one badass lady, aren't you? Well, I suppose I can't just leave you in the dark. You, through a murder investigation, have stumbled upon one hell of a conspiracy." [color=blanchedalmond]"What?"[/color] "A conspiracy, get your ears checked. My best friend is trying to take over the world." [color=blanchedalmond]"Excuse me?"[/color] "Goddamn lady, drop your cochlear?" [color=blanchedalmond]"You can-... you can't drop a-"[/color] "Anyway, I'm telling you this because I'd rather not [i]not[/i] take it over myself. I mean, not that I wanted to, but if someone's gonna do it, it'll be me. If you get a key to the whole planet put on your lap, you're not gonna... not do it are you?" Alias didn't know how to respond to that. "So turns out I'm a wizard of some kind, crazy shit. My friend is also a wizard, he taught me this thing called alchemy, fucking nutso my bro... sis. Anyway I made this pill, magic and chemicals equally, based on that thing that happened in New York I think it was. Nutso, nutso. So I roofied pretty much everyone in that room you're in right now. Should start happening any second now, nobody's immune, [i]nobody[/i], my man even says it'll work on Lady fuckin' Arcana. Something about chaos magic, whatever, not important, what is important, my lady, is that in a few seconds you're gonna start smelling blood. Have fun!" She did indeed start smelling blood. A man was beating on another, then his friend started beating on [i]him[/i]. Not even a blink later and there was an orgy of violence beginning. [color=blanchedalmond]"...Motherfuck."[/color] A man screamed behind her, and she swiftly turned to spot him lunging forward, mouth wide open and eyes filmed over. She struck him with her crowbar twice in a matter of seconds, then tripped him with an easy leg sweep, finishing by driving his head into the floor below. Alias watched in horror as at least a hundred eyes turned to look at her. Swiftly a number of the men and women began to lunge. Alias drew her pistol and planted a shot into a woman's leg, dropping her to the ground. Smacking a man across the nose with the crowbar, she held it around his throat and pulled back, holding him as she shot a further two down. She yanked the crowbar rightwards, driving the prying hook right into the man's neck. She took her first hit from the side, colliding with her temple and being powerful enough that she had to check to see if her eye was still there. She answered with one of her own right to the man's throat, sending him to the ground choking. A chair shattered against her spine, then a heavy object hit her in the back of the head. A bullet ripped through her side, and she went down. The blows rained down for what felt like forever. The pain was everywhere, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, all she could do was smell, smell her own blood and vomit. Finally forever ended. The blows ended. Alias laid on the ground in a puddle of blood, unmoving, barely breathing. She gasped and whimpered as she pushed herself to her feet. She tasted blood, so much blood, and also a bit of salt. Maybe it was tears, maybe it was sweat, who gave a damn. She didn't know why she was alive, but she had to thank Allah for the good fortune. Well, thank him when she wasn't coughing out enough blood to fill a swimming pool. She limped her way to the door, only falling once or twice. The anticipation in her body built as she closed with the sunlight, and when she met the door, it was too much for her. Her legs gave out, and she tumbled right through, down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. She gasped for air as blood ran down her ruined jacket. Well, that went well. Now what the fuck was she supposed to do. ... ... Goddammit she could only think of one thing. She hated that one thing. The pain in her everything convinced her though, and she tugged her now mostly smashed phone out of her pocket with a moan. She opened contacts as she bled on the ground, and stared at that name. She felt her thumb begging to touch it, but her mind refused. All because of that name. Oscar.