Blood In The Water

[stakes_and_daggers]

The Shark Tank... Usually, just a casino, but flyers had been posted and handed out, all over Vegas, indicating that, for this night, gambling would be optional. That there would be a party for Hallowe'en and a themed costume contest to match. Good for publicity and, not to mention, the bar - especially with no entrance fee!

Downstairs was the gambling section. Upstairs being where the main party was being held. Only the two floors existed and it made for a nice, self-contained atmosphere.

No actual vampires or other denizens of the night, of course. At least, for the most part. They tended to find nights like this a little offensive.

Something else which would be changing later...

[OOC: Open to everyone! Make yourselves at home and things will take a change for the violent in a little while. :)]

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[wolfs_daughter]

"Go, go, go!"

When the sprinklers came on and there was a rush towards the doors, Echo picked up the pace and hustled her latest batch of civilians to the exit. If she slowed down, she might get knocked down and trampled. She pushed the woman in the Catwoman costume out the door, then hauled ass out of the way to round up some stragglers. Even the vamps who'd been set to stand guard could be overwhelmed by numbers.

The hybrid's costume got soaked from above, but she felt oddly calm. This was kind of someone else's crisis, not just hers. Whatever that psycho wanted, she'd gotten more than she bargained for.

[rhiannon_lee]

The vampire had not gone up in a plume of ash and smoke. However, she was exceedingly pissed and still armed to the teeth. With a switchblade in one hand and a metal whip in the other, it would be difficult for Rhiannon to get near her, unless she managed to wrap her fingers around the snaking end of the slashing tool. Rhiannon knew she could lose a finger or two in the process.

‘Fuck…’

So, although it pissed her off to do so, the slayer drank in a nice, long look at the brunette’s pissed off visage and then got herself lost in the mix of scurrying people, who were spinning like tops as they plowed into one another’s shoulders. Rhiannon grabbed the first person whose face was within arm’s reach and squared up with him, eye to eye. As luck would have it, it was Michael Jackson’s white doppelganger.

“Hey, hey! Right here, look at me.” Water poured down the slayer’s forehead. The false lashes stayed glued in place, but her mascara wasn’t living up to its waterproof promise. She probably looked like Alice Cooper with breasts. “The back door’s open. Grab people by the shirttail and drag them out.”

As soon as a hole opened up in the back, people would be drawn to it. She needed him to show the way.

She let go of him and wiped her face as she looked around.

Just another girl in the melee.

[birthright_npc]

"The back door’s open. Grab people by the shirttail and drag them out.”

Lucas nodded, no questions asked, and started to grab shirttails, sleeves, belts, robes, sodden wigs (as he learnt with one suddenly ending up in his fingers) and started pushing them toward the back. It wasn't too difficult he realised, the fear of being gutted appearing to be quenched by the dousing from the ceiling, at least long enough to start showing sheep a direction to run.

He didn't know, or care, what had happened to the vamps he figured must have been there originally, but then not even the undead can hold back the flood of soggy, scared patrons that were being herded and shoved towards those doors.

Lucas threw a look over his shoulder as the crowd around him started to catch on, a crush looking imminent. He was trying to see where Goth had gone and tripped, going down hard on his elbow and receiving a kick in the head from a dirty gold stiletto.

[stakes_and_daggers]

In all truth, the head vampiress was more used to being in Rhiannon's position than leading frontal assaults. Except not so much with the sympathy for civilians getting caught in the middle. Had their roles been reversed, she would have turned up a small table, smashed a bottle, used another of those incendiaries or... Well, just look around. The place was full of potential weapons - lethal or not.

Which made the stampede just downright annoying. Katherine was seeing what should have been a decent plan getting flushed down the toilet before her eyes. A couple of the vampires yelling out her name as they were over-run, clearly in no shape to carry out her orders.

"Ugh! Want something done right, you gotta' do it yourself..."

With that, no-one trying to stop her, the now-named fanged brunette made a hellish CRACK of metal whip, throwing the switchblade into the running masses, not even caring who it hit or how.

Just because everyone was escaping didn't mean she couldn't do an awful lot of damage.

[wolfs_daughter]

Screams. Shattering glass. Running feet. As water from overhead puddled on the floor, full-on panic still reigned as drenched party goers overwhelmed the vampires at the exits and stampeded into the night beyond. Echo heard one of them squawk the name 'Katherine' before he was slammed backwards and then disappeared from sight in the crush. If a vamp got trampled, how long would that incapacitate them?

"Come on!"

The hybrid yelled the words over the racket, trying to snap a guy in a Clark Kent costume out of numb resignation. He even looked the perfect image of his mild-mannered idol; suit rumpled, glasses askew, a dazed look in his blue eyes. Echo lost patience with trying to pry him away from his inadvertent post near the stage, so she hauled him bodily towards the dwindling mass of bodies running for the doors.

She'd just succeeded in getting him out when someone struck her broadside and knocked her down. She didn't see who it was, just felt the impact. Torn between turtling to protect her head and trying to get to her feet, Echo opted for putting herself in motion. She'd had the wind knocked out of her, but she managed to get her boots beneath her. If the sprinkler system kept running, would the fire department be called?

[rhiannon_lee]

The sound of sirens came through the opening and closing back doors -- crescendo, decrescendo, loud and then muted. Police, fire and rescue all approached, having been called automatically by the company that monitored the electronic panel.

"Damn it." The brunette wiped water out of her eyes. After the vampire jumped offstage, she had lost track of her whereabouts, but she did see Michael Jackson on the ground. It looked like he was unconscious, and there was a trickle of blood near his ear. She couldn't just leave him there, not after he actually stepped up to the plate and tried to get people out of the door.

She started making her way closer, keeping an eye on the red leather jacket. "Hey!" she called and realized she didn't know his name. Steve? He looked like a Steve. "Get up!" Of course, to yell in this din was pointless, but she was desperate to get him off the concrete floor before he took another boot to the head. The puddles all around her shoes looked pinkish and she couldn't tell if it was an effect from the lighting or if there was that much blood being spilled in the room.

Two steps more...

Katherine did not know it, but as her knife blade slashed arms, shoulders, necks, in a variety of life-threatening and non-life-threatening wounds, it was about to dig into the very person she'd gone to the club in search of.

Rhiannon felt flesh rending in her lower back, near the left kidney. She sucked air between her clenched teeth and turned, just in time to see the brown tail of the vampire's hair disappearing between Cleopatra and Charlie Brown.

Thump... Crack... Thump...

A fire axe in a locked door.

A bark over a mounted speaker on a car: "Put your hands in the air!"

The cavalry had arrived.

Rhiannon bent down and grabbed the guy under his arm pits. She dragged him across the club floor and propped his unconscious -- alive? -- body up against the bar, next to the drunk woman from earlier. "Look out for him, okay?" She didn't wait to hear confirmation, just took off.

[stakes_and_daggers]

It wasn't like the potential for this hadn't factored into Katherine's plans, but that was before her escort had been so neutralised by circumstances. It wasn't about being scared, it was about knowing that the authorities would be better off not catching wind of a need to deal with her kind.

So it was that, with a defeated, "Hnn," of annoyance, the vampiress opted for discretion, deciding that now would be time for her to pause, bounce a springs or so of heels, then backtrack it to somewhere with roof access. Katherine being crude enough to shout out an expletive for the unseen Slayer's benefit.

Getting to confront one had been the entire idea of tonight - or at least, going home hugely satisfied after a night's slaughter. Both of which had now been denied to her.

Somewhere in the Las Vegas of the mid-1980s, a vampiress was making sure the police had nothing to track down... One who a now-injured Slayer now had both name and facial identity of.