Eisenhorn

Magic Hits the Streets (A Modern High Fantasy Adeventure!)

Ok, lemme go through the waiting characters, sorry for the delay.

@Masaki Haruna: She looks good, accepted

@NuttyNad: Good to go as well

@KiratheRogue: Add a bit more into the bio at least, and things should be good from there.

@Everyone else: Shout at me if I missed anyone, alright?

Magic Hits the Streets (A Modern High Fantasy Adeventure!)

Vic was busy writing down what Sloan had to offer on the information front, including some company name he had never heard of, or at least recognized. Which was most of it, though he wasn't surprised the face recognition and stuff didn't come up with anything positive. Sloan usually proved good, to say the least, and provided more than he had expected to get so soon after the attack happened. But speed was key here, since people were continuing to pester him about it, having left voicemails on his phone while he had been using it. "Algera Corp? I know a few things about them, for a corp, they never gave any overt indications they were shady dealers, probably meant they were good at it. Luminescence, dunno about them though, I'll have to do some digging on them too then. I'll help out then, sure thing. Keep your head down, the weather's turned to shit, sure as sure."

Vic looked at the history books, newspaper articles of the past, all sorts of forgotten articles that often times slipped the minds of many. The harsh, stormy weather meant he would be stuck here for a while, as he glanced at Lilin and smirked, commenting. "Lovely weather front we had move in, eh?" He kept digging, looking through the patterns and mysteries of the past that was so often forgotten. He could see the paths, patterns, trails, and hints of this group, and others that he had crossed paths with, heard about, and only knew the scantest bit of info about. Yet, this Our Father's Fathers might prove elusive, but no one was undocumented, let alone a group such as theirs. His focus was almost palpable, papers and books shuffled and paged through, bookmarks holding the spots of items of note, while keeping an ear on the weather. Ill omen that was, he could feel it in his blood.

A Hunt of Blood and Gears { Eisenhorn and Fairy Tale Dreamer }

Adrian shot the vampire warrior right in the chest, sidestepping his hurtling body and reloading, sighing. This was unattainable, at this rate. The ship wasn't going to manage to make it on its own at this rate, and if he left this room, either they'd lose the prisoner or he would be slaughtered, whichever happened first. Well, if the hunters couldn't have the prisoner, neither would the vampires. He made the choice right then, walking over to her cell and unlocking it, pulling the door aside, and speaking quickly. "I hate vampires, hell, I have more than my fair share reason to hate you bloodsuckers, but that doesn't mean I'm still not a soldier. I don't care what my others, my betters think, I treat a prisoner with dignity. This ship ain't gonna make it against the vampires boarding it, and I ain't gonna see a prisoner mistreated that easily in their hands. In gods honest truth, the Order would do little better, despite my best attempts, so to hell with them." He managed to catch another one mid leap, rifle stock slamming it into the ground and dazing it before it took an a slayer bolt into the chest, ending its existence and reloading.

"So I won't execute you, like the others would. They would shoot you dead, not caring that the vampires are after you for some reason. Well, damn me, I'm curious, and figure shooting you doesn't do any good now. The escape hatch is in the back, I would go that way, but the drop into the trees would probably kill me, or what is waiting down there if there is a lair. I might try my luck anyways, considering they are up here still, especially if that coward of a navigator can put this damn ship upwards, trap the vampires up here until dawn. I don't plan to be on this ship with a bunch of pissed off vamps, and I doubt you want to be either." There was no point in trying to save the ship or its crew, who were probably being drained alive, and Adrian ran to the brig door, slamming it shut and bracing it with several benches, knowing he was barricading himself in with a vampire he had just captured and wounded prior. But a potentially peaceful one beat the hell out of the clearly vicious ones outside. Or at least they had a mutual enemy, even if his hatred towards the vampire race was great. He walked away from the door, slinging his rifle on his back and pulling some carpeting aside, revealing a trapdoor with a combination lock on it, but several revolver shots later, the hatch was open, treeline visible right beneath them. The barricade on the main door was splintering, and he glanced at the free vampiress, unable to believe the situation he was in today. "The Order is little better than your Vampire Lord, from the sounds of it in ideology. Complete, total annihilation of the target of their ire for the sake of vengeance. My men deserved better than what they got from the vampires that day, but I suppose vengeance will have to stand aside in favor of survival. I suppose my hatred for your kind will do the same."

A hole was punched in the door, and Adrian spun, putting several shots through the door with his revolver, doing no more than pissing them off, and he reloaded and jerked his head at the escape hatch, and spoke quietly, despite the life or death situation. "Ladies first, I believe is the etiquette." He would follow her out, and none too soon as he was out the hatch, the ship took a steep rise upwards, the navigator's last spiteful act towards the vampires. A moment longer, the two of them would probably have been dead for certain. Adrian didn't land well, rolling several dozen feet and landing sprawled, barely grabbing his rifle before a vampire, a hostile one, that escaped the ship was on him, trying to suck him dry, and he got his rifle between him and its teeth, holding it back for now, although it was going to be a losing battle if it ran for much longer.

Magic Hits the Streets: Important NPC Characters

The Governor of Texas: Eric Partridge
"My life was busy enough as it was. Signing laws, dealing with lobbyists, corporate thugs, and your terrorist of the day. Now Our Father's Father terrorist group has made my life that much harder. Now we have martial law in Houston, sparked by an army sized engagement in the damn city streets! I have enough work as it is without this mess, and I can't just palm this off on someone else either, so this Father Anarchy, as we're calling him, needs dealt with now, so we can get on with our lives."

Leader of Our Father's Father: Father Anarchy
"Decadence, corruption, disproportionate wealth distribution, abuse of power. I used to be one of these abusers of powers, these wealthy corrupt individuals that lived for the day. Then they betrayed me, cast me down and left me to rot in the gutter. I gained new perspective, saw what our actions had done to the city proper. I am not here to fight for glory, or for the sake of the fighting. Today we struck a fatal blow that will start the wheels of revolution, and I go on the air to warn the Texan people, and rally them. The revolution has begun, for the sake of the people."


CO of Algera Corp: Adaya Vuo
"Business as usual. Death, backroom deals, blood, weapons, favors, and trouble of all sorts are just bargaining chips. We deal in an age that such things are just an accepted cost for such work. Now, many accuse us of corruption, of abusing our positions and our power, and I ask any one of them this. Would they do any different? Would they sacrifice all the money and power in the world just to be right? No, I didn't think so. Money doesn't just talk, it screams, twists arms, and makes people listen. Money talks, money works, money kills, and of course, money leads the way to really living."


Grandmaster of the Mages Guild: Garis Voudan
"Knowledge is Power. Such a quaint phrase for such a potent situation. Magic is in full force, from the gang slingers to the best that my guild has to offer, magic has permeated every known facet of life. Security, leisure, war, peace, you name it, magic has a hand in it. But its all true, in the end. Knowledge is indeed Power. Knowing where to be, when to be, why to be, and how to be can make all the difference in the world. But many, too many, forget the latter half of such a thought. Knowledge is indeed power, but one must guard it well."


Leader of the Angels of the Crusade: Saint Catherine the Arch Angel
"May the Lord bless us, in our holy crusade against the wicked and evil that infest this world. Evil men and women walk openly and brazenly, trampling the good and righteous. No more, by the word of God, and I. I shall lead the purge, scything away the corruption of the world like wheat at the harvest, and may the Lord have mercy upon the souls, corrupt or otherwise, of those who stand against us. For we shall not."


Gang Lord/Demon Lord: Crowley
"Corruption is the business, and my friend? Business is good. A man will pay a lot for some dark, dirty pleasure. Some men will pay even more to supply themselves as the pleasure. I don't care, not really. I'm here to make a deal, swindle some folks, make away a few souls richer, all just because its what I do. Its my nature, really, to bargain, steal, profit, and laugh at the misfortune of others! Some hate me, would see me caste aside, but they'll fail, like so many others. Men like me are always around, ready to take all you got for the sake of a deal, a quick fix, or whatever your poor, little black heart desires."


Police Chief: Kara Do'Vosho
"All hell's broken loose, and people are looking to me for answers again. Terrorist attacks, criminal activities rampantly running around causing trouble, brazen disregard for the law and all that is sacred, and what can we do? Nothing! Corruption is so damn rampant that you are never sure whether you've sent a good man, or another criminal, to try and help some poor soul who managed to phone the police department for once. But, by god I'll try, I'll keep purging those I know are dirty, keep the good guys, give them more leeway and power, and by god I'll manage without these damn PMC's just sauntering around like some National Guard."

Magic Hits the Streets (A Modern High Fantasy Adeventure!)

Victor grinned idly as Lilin decided to let him in, damn the consequences that the feds might want to throw at them, as well as the yelling he heard as he exited the shadows and cross the street, hands in his pockets as he smiled warmly at the dragoness librarian, walking up the stairs and nodding towards the guards and offering his hand to shake to Lilin. "A pleasure to see you again, ravishing as always. I wish I could say I was here for pleasantries, but I've gotten quite the number of calls demanding I figure out what is going on. The nets are a mess, and while I plan on getting an old contact on that end of things, I think these bastards got some history, under another name most likely. So I need to do some digging, cross reference the patterns of their actions, the way they present themselves, and see if I can't draw up any conclusions."

While he let Lilin respond as she saw fit, and was more than welcome to follow along, he whipped out his phone, hitting a speed dial number and holding it up to his ear. It rung a few times, and when the other person picked up, Vic smirked. "Sloan, long time no talk! Its Vic, how's it been? Yea, you been keeping up with this whole mess with these 'Our Father's Fathers' goons? What can you tell me about them, I'm doing some digging, seeing who they really are." He had pulled, carefully of course, several books down that covered the history of this kind of indirect warfare, listening to both what Lilin would have to say, as well as what Sloan would have to say. After all, the more information on his side, the more powerful he would be. After all, knowledge was power, but he would have to guard it well.

Magic Hits the Streets (A Modern High Fantasy Adeventure!)

@Foster: Hmm, your approved and good to go.

Magic Hits the Streets (A Modern High Fantasy Adeventure!)

Victor Vladov was walking the streets, hands jammed in his pockets when the attack happened. Hell, he had watched it happen, standing off in the shadows, naturally out of sight, taking in the information that he was seeing, and as soon as more of the PMC's friends showed up, he bailed, taking the backstreets back to his office, but not before the explosion rocked the day, causing him to glance back and see the mess that it caused. Well, this was going to make life a lot more miserable. By the time he got back to his office, the small network of bounty hunters, small time informants, and other people who lent the detective a hand had already rung him up or emailed him, a whole mess of information about this crack down the city was undergoing, what it was doing to the various jobs, and where was safe and where wasn't. This was a mess, and as he watched both the terrorist's broadcast and the governor's, he couldn't help but start laughing. And he couldn't stop, just laughing outright at the sheer insanity, and brazeness, of this new terrorist. Corruption WAS how things worked this day and age, you couldn't just torch it out at this point, you'd bring down the fucking economy.

The governor's response wasn't any better, that was going to just start a shooting war, and he didn't give two shits about the mess that it made for folks in between. And men and women like Victor, who worked the shadier side of things more often than not, would be getting set up to have to run around and clean shit up, tidy up loose ends, and keep themselves alive in the process. Well damn, this was going to be one busy time for him, and he sighed, leaning back in his office chair, looking at the mess of cross referenced notes and information. None of it was solid, and he had already ditched some half assed schemes that made absolutely no sense, even to a conspiracy theorist. He had a phone there, and he had been fielding calls from people, a lot of them wanting to know what was going on, and offering good money for it too. Well, guess this was a job now, he had to figure out just what happened, and why? Grabbing his phone, he needed to keep it on him, and throwing a jacket over his shoulder rig, where his two .45's were kept, he stepped out into the world, sticking to the back streets and shadows because of the lock down.

He was expecting more calls still, and put his phone on vibrate, instead of ringer, and skulked along the allies, dodging PMC's that were stopping people on the streets. and the dirty cops he knew of, more than ready to have to fight to actually get clear of someone if he misjudged them right now. He needed to go to the library right now, but he knew that place was going to be locked down tighter than a nun's virginity, so he was going to have to go and be cunning about this. Arriving, he kept naturally to the shadows, looking at the sheer amount of security the place had, and how there was no way those federal goons were letting him in if he flashed his badge, like that orc that normally ran the door. Besides, that orc knew him, he frequented the place as a jumping off point for a lot of his work, digging through older information in there to lead him along to more recent stuff, and to eventually find what he wanted. People didn't use libraries much anymore, not paper ones at any rate, and he noted the amount of security the place had.

Might as well give it a shot, he had other plans if he needed to. Victor took out his phone and dialed up Lilin, the head librarian of the place and he got along admirably with her. He treated her library with all due respect, and she let him access most of it without too much trouble. Granted, that fancy vault was off limits, but he figured that was the real reason this place was swamped with federal goons rather than to protect the books. She was probably pissed as all hell right now, but probably in charge of this. He might be able to get in with her say so, but only maybe, it was worth a shot. If she picked up, he spoke calmly, with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Afternoon Lilin, its Victor. Seems your entertaining quite the house party right now, aren't you? Whats your read on this whole mess?"

Magic Hits the Streets (A Modern High Fantasy Adeventure!)

So many fine folks to interrogate, it shall be splendid!

Magic Hits the Streets (A Modern High Fantasy Adeventure!)

Sweet, first approved application for the win!

Magic Hits the Streets (A Modern High Fantasy Adeventure!)

And fourth gets nothing! Darn...

Oh hey, my CS

Name: Victor Vladov

Race: Half Devil

Age: 31

Gender: Male

Profession/Role/Position: Self Employed Detective

Appearance:


Equipment:
Victor has been around a few scrapes, and needs some equipment suitable for the job. His go to choice is two paired Kimber Custom sidearms, customized suitably to the half devil's preferred look. With reinforced slides, hair triggers, and smooth action, these .45's are deadly enough without being able to accept a variety of enchanted or mundane ammunition, which he keeps a stockpile of in his office, hard locked with a combination only know to Victor. When the enemy gets up close and personal, Victor is more than capable of getting down and dirty with his fists. But why bother getting your fists all bloodied up on some ugly gang banger's face when you can drop them with a Stun baton, modified to be collapsible. Normally non lethal, Victor has the strength and speed to make blows from this weapon more than lethal, should he focus on trying. He knows the amount of hackers out and about would love nothing more than to hack a tablet or smart phone, so he opts to instead use pen and paper, which they have to physically lift off of him, difficult when he keeps it secured in a very private location. He also has a badge stating his qualification as a private detective, which used to be his badge with the police force, but this was easily modified so it didn't count as a problem with the current police force.

Implants: The only 'Implant' that Victor has is at the base of his neck, a black gem carved with runes that prevent him from accessing the majority of his demonic heritage, only able to call up what his father's gift was, Shadowmelding. Obviously, he can't just remove the gem, or he would die from the backlash, but there is always a way to undo magic like that, one just needs to find the means...

Magic:
Partial Shadowmelding: His father was not a fighter, but one that acted as a scout, and he can naturally blend into shadows if he focuses, fading from view. But the gem in his neck severely restricts the powers he can actually call upon, and instead can only fade from view, rather than fully vanish, or actually travel from pool of shadows to pool of shadows, striking from a dozen places near instantly, as many shadow demons are feared for doing when confronted in a battle.

The black gem in his neck prevents him from accessing more abilities, but should the time come, these abilities are what the half devil knows is missing, from research and rare encounters with unlimited ones, before putting them down more often than not.

Hellfire: The classic fire and brimstone of myth, most demons who go to war know how to conjure up this infernal flame, even the scouts like his father, should they be forced into a corner. The most common application is a ball or stream of pure hellfire, dousing the victim in nigh unquenchable flames, burning through most material, given enough time. But that time can be used to remove the burning material, preventing the spread onto the rest of the body or further material, potentially severally weakening its effect. Victor would be able to channel Hellfire into his paired pistols, coating the pistols in blackish fire and, instead of bullets, small bolts of hellfire are launched instead, penetrating weaker material and combusting within, or scattering on harder surfaces and burning from there.

True Shadowmelding: The true capabilities of shadowmelding are unleashed, and Victor can attain a near perfect invisibility if he remains motionless, or travel from spot to spot. He is only a half breed, and this taxes him far more than the partial Shadowmelding did, and he can only travel once or twice without risking serious internal, and external, damage, on a daily basis, at best. He can no longer access what his partial Shadowmelding was, having to rely on the more taxing true form now.

Personality: Victor is a joker, easy to get along with when off the job, but with a stubborn streak a mile wide, the half devil is not easy to get off a job. He'll take most kinds of work, specializing in tracking down the stuff that doesn't want to be tracked down, and it shows. He doesn't know when to back down, bullheaded and sometimes easy to anger, more than ready to draw guns and open fire, relying on his half blooded nature to get out of a tight spot when it comes down to the line. He isn't cocky about his abilities, but he is confident, which some people confuse the two, but while he is hotblooded, he isn't suicidal and can tell when he absolutely can't win in a situation. But don't expect him not to come back later, waiting out back with a baseball bat to avenge himself with.

Bio: Victor Vladov doesn't talk overly much about himself, the most he will tell folks that his mother got swindled and bamboozled into taking demon shaft, and now hates both him and any non humans, but the story is a bit more complicated than he is letting on.

His father was indeed a demon, but not some charismatic, silver tongued being that talked his way into his mother's pants. The devil had no name, not being of high enough standing or rank to actually have earned one, sworn to a cadre of demons that the very existence of were shadowy and unsure. More familiar with shadows than anything else, this nameless Demon rose through the ranks, and spied this human female as a prize worth taking. So from the shadows he came, introducing himself to the terrified woman. He romanced her, awkwardly as some bystanders to their meetings would tell you, and their relationship ended with the recalling of his father, and the birth of their son, Victor Vladov, half breed devil. The demon never told his mate that he was a demon, lying to her about his true nature, never telling the truth to anyone.

His mother, realizing now that the boy's father was not some special kind of mage, but a full blown demon, cursed his name and the baby that she had given birth to. Half breeds weren't uncommon, but his mother hated anything that was not pure human, and herself felt violated that she had been used so by a filthy demon. She planned on abandoning the child, but her brother took the boy from her, who as the Uncle of the child, could take custody of. Contacts in the police force helped as well, and Victor never knew much of his mother, beyond her brazen racism and special hatred for demons now. One would think these things would prove traumatizing for such a young child, but it would not turn out that way.

While he was getting transferred to his Uncle, via the bureaucratic mess that was the paper work for a half devil child with no known father, he was implanted with a black gem at the base of his neck. This was actually an attempt on his life by a human supremacist instructed by his mother to do, and the black shard would have killed a full demon outright. All this did, however, was seal his nascent powers, or most of them. It was not a full gem, of whatever the make was, so it did not totally seal his powers. He still had access to the physical advantages, the abnormal strength, speed, resiliance to punishment and, assumed, was longevity. However, most of his powers that required manifesting were untouchable, just causing searing pain to the half devil if he tried, and rapidly gave up on it, as the gem grew to match his size as he grew up, organically growing so it didn't fall out.

His Uncle had been in charge of the investigative department of the Houston PD, and raised the boy to follow in his footsteps. Another person just trying to secure their own legacy, rather than raise the boy, but Victor learned quickly that, in this world, you looked out for yourself, or you were serving to the will of others. As a kid in school, one of the few that would accept a half devil, he had gotten into a lot of fights, over his heritage, his lack of real parents, all sorts of things really, and sometimes for no plain good reason. Rather than try and change this, his Uncle chose to teach him how to fight so no one would screw with him. It worked, after he hospitalized some bully for harassing another young girl. Granted, he needed to be transferred, but it had to be quite the memory for all parties involved.

Getting out of high school, on his Uncle's recommendation, he went to the Police Academy to train to be a Detective. The Academy wasn't easy for him, a regimented life style was not what he was used to, but he did dig the idea of helping others, so he stuck through with it. He excelled in the combat training aspects, from marksmanship to hand to hand, as well as using equipment and gear, and he always had a knack for finding things others did, and far more importantly didn't, want found. He even got an instructor fired for his promiscuity with a student, which he tracked down because the guy ticked him off. That was the beginning of the end for his police career, for when he graduated the Academy, with full honors, he was relegated to a desk jockey job instead of actually going out and working.

Victor wasn't having that, so he bailed as soon as possible, now in his mid twenties with no job, he used what money he had to buy a small building and converted it into part office, part apartment. He christened his new business Fine Print Investigative Services, attempting to make a joke about how the fine print always taketh away. His knack for finding things really shined here, with no rules or regulations to stop him from actually going out and finding what he was looking for. He kicked down doors, shot up small gangs, got into the odd running gunfight with corrupt police forces that wouldn't let him do his job, and made a name for himself as an unshakeable blood hound, just not a big name, since his mother still kept him from attaining any sort of fame through her connections and assaults on him, both figuratively and literally, but he continues to make a good living regardless, although he just might stop taking shit from the human supremacists, and his mother, once and for all.

Misc: Victor's demon blood gives him better strength, speed, and durability, comparable or superior to most implants, and his night vision is naturally better thanks to the origins of his father.

Company/Organization: Victor runs his own private detective service, Fine Print Investigative Services, and he'll take just about any client, for any reason. Its only him, living out of what loosely conforms to the idea of an office. It is located on the border between the Non-Human suburbs, Elf Haven, and Corporate HQ's, which gives him a lot of traffic of all kinds, though not all of them are looking for him for good reasons.

The office itself is a two story building at the corner of a street, with a battered sign hanging from above the doorway with a document and magnifying glass, and in older fancy script, Fine Print Investigative Services, and on the door was, on the glass, Detective Viktor Vladov in several different languages, including a few that weren't common to humanity. The first floor of the office was the actual office, and when one walked in they would quickly see it was cozy, if functional. A wood stove in the corner for an emergency, old carpet on the floor, a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling, several chairs, a couch, coffee table with a variety of current and not so current magazines, and a larger desk from which Victor worked. The desk held various reports, notes, paystubs, IOU's, and a bunch of other various and sundry things one would expect. A lockbox and safe under the desk are both secure from physical and magical intrusion, holding his various ammunition loadouts, both magical and mundane, and Viktor has no intent of letting anyone have those. Behind a locked door is a stairwell leading upstairs to his home, all open space so one can just walk where they need to. A small kitchenette, with stove, microwave, and refridgerator rested in the corner closest to the door. An armchair and small couch faced a used, but functional, 46" plasma screen TV, while a smaller, nicer desk faced the window, which had a computer and some writing utensils and paperwork on it as well, although at first glance the paperwork would actually be correspondence with various people in the city, who didn't trust electronics to get their messages back and forth. His twin sized bed was in the corner opposite of the door, and one of two rooms walled from the others, the other being a tiny bathroom adjacent to the small bedroom, since no one wants to see you using the john, after all.