Log:Mistakes Were Made

2014/12/11 Grimm Pelana Pendragon Porter 1

Nicholston

Nicholston is the historic name for this part of town, though most people would probably say "near the mall". There's a seaside town atmosphere here, especially in summer, though the traffic on Beach and Wharf Streets are a reminder that this is a full city. The tourist industry prevails, embodied in convenience stores, surf rental shops, souvenir stores and restaurants; and at Wharf and Beach is Boardwalk Mall, unquestionably the center for shopping in the city. The most affordable of the bayside housing is also to be found here. Remarkably, there's plenty of parking, which helps the trade of mall and beach alike.

Porter emerges from the Beach Street Apartments. His hands are in his coat pockets and currently devoid of cups. Which could explain him turning south towards Bridgend. And coffee. Tasty, hot, doesn't explode in your face coffee. At least he hopes that's the case.

Dark days are here. Nights, too. Pretty much fill everything dark for Grimm for the past several months, starting from when her boyfriend plunged a dagger into her heart to today. Something's got to look up, doesn't it? Maybe not this day. Grimm steps out of an alley where an unconscious DEMON cultist who tried to get the drop on her lays. She runs her fingers along the wand used against her and snaps it in two with a small burst of light, then tosses it in the alley with the sound of wood scattering on concrete. Her clothes are singed and burned through in spots, and a dark aura outlines her. In exasperation and exhaustion, she blows up a puff of air to shift her messed up bangs out of her face.

And of course she stepped out a few meters in front of Porter's path, looking pretty pissed off.

Porter had nothing to do with it! Honest! He's mostly watching the ground ahead of him, but does see the sudden arrival of Grimm's feet from the alley. So he stops abruptly. And his head and eyes lift. And blink. Well, his eyes do. "Gabrielle?! You Ok?" She looks like hell. Again, he didn't have anything to do with it. That his entire body is currently glowing brightly with magical energies (to those who can sense such things) is enitrely unrelated.

Having just escaped one brightly glowing mage, seeing another startles Gabrielle into assuming it's another cultist, because she doesn't recognize the aura as Porter's initially. While she startles, her shadow reacts automatically, rising up from the ground and swiping massive, beast-like claws at Porter.

Porter noticed she looked like hell. And looked mad. Still, he didn't expected her, or her shadow, to take it out on him! That would be...weird? And he just spent the last hour or more trying to take care of that. Temporarily, sure, but a test run. A what-if. Giant, sharp, shadowy claws fall distinctly under the category of things that should've been eliminated. Or reduced. Or something!

He does try to duck, but not nearly far enough. He was never nimble, or fast, or smart. And now that's very apparent. He catches the slashing claws across his torso, and even his warm layers of clothes don't cut him any slack. Instead, the claws just cut him some ribbons. He's knocked back several meters to land on his back in the driveway. Ow. Concrete. As if the threat of his insides creeping outside wasn't enough, his skull bouncing off the pavement leaves him dazed.

Grimm's reaction changes from startled anger to shock, and then horror. "Shadow, stop!" she doesn't have a name for it. Maybe she should've named it. The shadow seeths, then looks back at Grimm from the ground and retreats behind her at the scolding. She limps slowly towards Porter, she lays a hand on one of the burns along her ribcage and starts healing herself up. "You DEMON cultists...don't get the hint...DO you? Trying to change your form....won't trick me. And you totally picked the wrong guise if you wanted to get close to hurt me again." Her voice becomes stronger as her wounds heal up, her body reforming. While she's still picking up the strange powerful magical glow that isn't usually Porter's, she doesn't pick up on any presence of evil. Although most cultists don't, the really twisted ones do. So Porter's at least run into some lucky.

Grimm stops once she's standing over what she thinks is a false Porter, watching him bleed out on the concrete. "Tell me which Morbane sent you, and I'll spare you."

Porter coughs up some blood, but more disconcerting is the feeling of things moving in his gut. Moving in ways he's not used to. Like... out. "Morwhat?" He clutches his stomach. "What're you... talking about?" If he's trying to imitate a really beat to hell Porter, he's doing a very good job.

Badadumdump, badadumdump. The sounds of hooves thunder in the night air. Snowmane -loves- to run, and the fact that he can outpace most cars (when they're not going all out that is) is just fun. Pendragon does tend to try to keep him to the speed of general traffic because.. Snowmane doesn't have a spedometer installed. And there are speed limits and such. But she's thundering along as she watches a shadow rise up and smite Porter in the distance. Suddenly... speed limits cease to matter. The shining blade of Excalibur is in her hand as she urges her mount on. And.. he skids to a stop, getting far more traction than iron horseshoes should get... the blade aimed at... uh, Grimm? "Messenger girl?" she asks. Her sword blade, even at night, doesn't so much glow as shine like the noon sun is striking it dead on. "Suppose you.. explain this." she commands.

"You haven't got much time left," Gabrielle pronounces. She's not actually sure and just saying that to scare him into talking, but it certainly looks to be the case. Which has her looking troubled. Her shadow starts to creep towards Porter, but Grimm shoots it a scathing look, and it inches back again like a guilty puppy with very, very sharp claws.

Grimm looks back to Porter and drops down to one knee, bringing her face closer to his with her teeth slightly bared. "Stop playing innocent. Tell me what Morbane you work for. Where's your Demonhame? Tell me, and I'll get you help."

Badadumdump, badadumdump. The sounds of hooves thunder in the night air. Snowmane -loves- to run, and the fact that he can outpace most cars (when they're not going all out that is) is just fun. Pendragon does tend to try to keep him to the speed of general traffic because.. Snowmane doesn't have a spedometer installed. And there are speed limits and such. But she's thundering along as she watches a shadow rise up and smite Porter in the distance. Suddenly... speed limits cease to matter. The shining blade of Excalibur is in her hand as she urges her mount on. And.. he skids to a stop, getting far more traction than iron horseshoes should get... the blade aimed at... uh, Grimm? "Messenger girl?" she asks. Her sword blade, even at night, doesn't so much glow as shine like the noon sun is striking it dead on. "Suppose you.. explain this." she commands.

If only Porter had some armor to cover himself up with. He could maybe play it off as a flesh wound. Or something. Though that would've probably helped with keeping the wounds out of his flesh in the first place. He coughs again, and winces. He thought the whole bleeding cough thing was bad before... this might top it. "Not. Working for. Anyone. What happened... to you?" And then there's giant hoofbeats?

Grimm gestures with a flip of her wrist to casually motion to Porter. "DEMON sent some cultists to try and get the drop on me. A couple of really dumb acolytes who thought grabbing me on their own would earn them some rank." She looks to glare at Porter. "And who A, didn't do a good job hiding their magical aura, and B, picked the wrong person to try and get close to me."

"That's not DEMON. That's Porter." remarks Pendragon. "And a very -very- messily bleeding Porter." She mutters as she narrows her eyes. "He's a pain in the ass, but... suppose you put your shadow magic back in the bottle eh?" She asks as she dismounts and sheathes her blade while walking over to Porter and crouching, "Okay. Let me look." she commands.

Grimm blinks a few times and looks at Pendragon, confused. Then back to Porter, then her. "I've SEEN Porter. He doesn't have magic like this infused in him. It's...it's got to be a fake..." she sounds certain at first, but she loses some of that near the end. Suddenly she looks back down at Porter, her expression mixed between anger and fear.

Porter blinks and grunts. Then blinks again. "Para?" Well, Pendragon is a female armored knight? And her name is sort of close? He could be just a wee bit distracted by things, and maybe is a bit optimistic? Blood in eyes could be crimson-colored glasses?

Pelana lands from above, nearby. Seven foot size. She gawks for a moment, then rushes to Porter. "JAMES! Who did this to you?!" She's not particularly interested in the others, and if they get in her way, she'll very happily shove them aside.

"Use.. your eyes." says Pendragon in a bit of a mutter. She's crouched before Porter and when she hears Pelana's voice, she raises her own, "STOP!" she announces as she looks back over her shoulder and up at the large woman. "Nobody gets to overreact. Understood?" Yeah, she's trying to -use- that aura of authority she was blessed with. Why not?

Grimm growls in frustration, "You can't TRUST your eyes when magic's involved!" To demonstration, her body becomes blurry and dark before reforming. When the shadows fade, Porter is kneeling there, looking exasperated and frustrated, but not bleeding and full of claw marks. GrimmPorter says in Porter's voice, "NEVER trust just your eyes."

GrimmPorter controls his frustration and says, "Look, I didn't intend to even do this...DEMON Acolyte or not, we need to get him to a hospital. I can get him there in a few seconds."

"And yet, you just shredded.. Porter." says Pendragon towards Grimm. "Cynicism to the Nth degree. Now..." she reaches to place a hand on.. an unwounded part of Porter's body. "I was about to say the same thing. You will pardon me if I do not exactly extend to you.. the most trusting attitude right now." And.. the sword is in her hand already.. mist beginning to form in the area. "If you would all like to come with, you are welcome to. I am planning to hae the mists deposit us at the doors to the ER. Simply place a hand upon my shoulder and you will come with."

"Pel?" Porter blinks s'more. One moment he's heading for coffee, then it's a convention. And that minor thing in the middle with claws... "What's...going on?" He even has a legitimate excuse for lack of blood to his brain, that isn't going to get him hurt. More.

Pelana comes to a stop. "Eyes, maybe, but you can't fool me with magic. Not these days." She bends down and prods Porter experimentally in a not-too-wounded bit, seeing if she feels any particular 'tingle' of 'food'.

"It...it wasn't me. Exactly...my shadow was trying to defend me because I was hurt," GrimmPorter explains. While her clothes had burned holes in them, when she shifted her appearance, the clothes changed, and were repaired. 'He' puts a hand on Pendragon's shoulder, then says to Pelana, "You can't fool me with magic, either. And Porter never looked like this before, magically speaking." He clears his throat and turns his head while closing his eyes with a slight expression of disgust, becoming shadow again before reforming as herself. She seems much more comfortable now.

"I don't care if it was the one armed shadow puppet." says Pendragon. "Right now, we're going to the ER. Come with or don't come with. Snowmane, meet us there okay?" she says. The horse bobs its head and whinnies a bit before.. everyone just gets absorbed by the mists. They dissipate, and POOF, Y'all are at the ER.

"Now, be a good girl and stop sucking the magic out of Porter okay?" says Pendragon towards Pelana as she bends and lifts Porter into her arms, and heads in through the doors to find a gurney, doctor, and all that.

Porter is going, since he doesn't have much of a choice. He surely isn't going to be running away. And the hospital doesn't sound so bad. Pendragon could probably get them there without dropping him on Rose, too. And then he's there. On the bright side, his weirdness for the moment may be gone or diminished: he isn't run over by an ambulance when they arrive.

Pelana hmphs, "How do you know I'm not grabbing something awful from whatever did this to him? Besides, it's not something voluntary."

"What say we get him less shredded and then debate the semantics of the magic sucking, okay?" asks Pendragon as she deposits Porter on a gurney and flags down a waiting ER Doctor. In this city, it's not like their appearance, looks, behavior, or -anything- is going to seem weird. They had a nanomachine girl working in their labs last month, yeesh.

"Because I can see what you're doing," Grimm says as she walks along with Pendragon, sighing and looking a bit guilty. Her shadow looks like the epitome of guilt though, with slouched shoulders and head hanging down. It kind of liked Porter for supplying danishes. But still doesn't trust him. Which is more than what Grimm thought of him. She starts to disappear in a wave of shadow and appear next to the nurse's station. "Nurse, we have an emergency! Someone in critical condition!"

"Do I have to wear... the dress again?" Porter asks the nurse, doctor, or other shiny colorful person nearby as he's wheeled around on the gurney.

"You could just go naked." says Pendragon in an attempt to lighten Porter's mood a bit. But the doctor gives her a stern look and she steps back... blood on her armor and such. "Well, who needs bad coffee?" she asks, gesturing at a machine.

Grimm vanishes and reappears near the gurney, out of the way of doctors, staying quiet for a moment and looking rather sullen as she just stares at Porter's injuries. She finally says to Pendragon without looking, "No coffee....I think I'm going to be sick..."

Pelana shakes her head, looking concerned. "Look, of the people here, I'm the closest James has to family here. At the very least, I can go to his house if he needs something, if he's got to be here awhile."

Looking to Grimm now for a long moment, Pendragon doesn't appear to be judging. Just looking and studying. "I would hope that any time that forces... which are -supposed- to be under your control, attack someone with lethal force... you -should- feel sick about it." She pauses and adds, "Yes Pelana, you should do that. Also, give him some emotional support. That's as important as doctors at this point." Then back to Grimm she adds, "I think you and I need to have a very long chat about just who is controlling whom."

Porter chuckles at Pendragon's joke. A bit late but that's normal for him. It hurting to laugh isn't so normal. Though it might get dirty looks from staff as he's wheeled over into ... one of those rooms. That they wheel hurt people into. For getting fixed.

Grimm's hands are trembling. One wraps around to hold her stomach while the other covers her mouth. Because her stomach just turned upside down on her. She knows she's not in control. Not totally. But she never thought that whatever was done to her could be controlling her back.

As Pelana goes to get things for Porter, and Pendragon gives her a reprimand and goes for her coffee, Grimm sinks to her knees, still feeling like she's about to throw up. As much as she hates Porter for what he seemed to be trying to do with her, he never deserved -that-. Tears start to run down her cheeks.

Her shadow shifts and moves about to rest at her side, then starts to peel off the ground and rise up to a short, man-size. It starts to take more shape as it leans down and puts a solid feeling hand on her shoulder. "It's my fault," it says in a mimicry of Porter's voice, using a phrase it heard before to communicate. It's borrowed his form, to boot, and looks at her in concern.

Grimm stares up in shock, and then anger. "You...you did this!" she grabs her shadow by his shirt. "Damn you, this IS your fault! ALL of this! Why won't you just go...AWAY!" she shouts through her tears. Perhaps her shadow misunderstood, because as she sobs, it wraps its arms around her as more shadows rise up around them both. And then the pair, her shadow and her, vanish.