Azuria sat at a table outside "El Helado Super Mexicano" and watched the traffic in and out of the Eastgate hazard zone. Two sundaes sat on the table in front of her, kept at the optimal temperature by a simple spell. She glanced at her watch and noticed that QB Kitsune was late. In a city where street crime was prevalent, it was expected for Supers to occasionally be late. In fact, Azuria regularly built a fudge factor into her appointments with heroes. Granted, this was more of a social meeting than anything business related, but the poor dear needed more personal than professional support.
A crystal on her amulet began to glow, indicating trouble at MAGI headquarters. She rose, placed her chair in its place and murmured a few soft words accompanied by a gesture. The air in front of her shivered and a disc of eldritch energy appeared perpendicular to the ground. She calmly stepped through the disc and into her office.
No sooner had she gotten the extra protections on many of the dangerous artifacts in her office, the door flew off its hinges. A hulking male figure dressed in leather pants and a iron mask withdrew the enormous mallet and stepped back to allow a troupe of harlequins into the room, followed by a woman in an intricate Renaissance dress. Azuria tensed, recognizing Vanessa deVore's followers in the Carnival of Shadows from their Venetian porcelain masks.
"Good evening, Azuria, dear," the master illusionist said. She raised her hand and a harlequin tossed a psychic knife at one of the staff before he could interrrupt with a relic designed to remove the Carnival masks. The luckless clerk disappeared in a shower of teleportation sparks as he was whisked to Chiron Medical Center. "We believe that you possess an item that should rightly belong to us."
Azuria frowned. "What are you talking about?"
The illusionist cocked her head to the side in amusement. "There is no need to be coy, my dear." She mimed reaching into her bodice and produced an illusion of an oil painting depicting a Japanese porcelain fox mask. "The death-mask of Lady Nogitsune. We know you have it, since you and Sister Psyche created it." A note of regret entered her voice when Azuria snarled. "A pity, we shall have to do this the hard way."
A leather-encased arm suddenly appeared around Azuria's throat, holding her in place as its matching counterpart snapped an ampoule of knockout gas under her nose. As consciousness fled, Azuria caught the reflection of an Arachnos Night Widow holding her.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll
A crystal on her amulet began to glow, indicating trouble at MAGI headquarters. She rose, placed her chair in its place and murmured a few soft words accompanied by a gesture. The air in front of her shivered and a disc of eldritch energy appeared perpendicular to the ground. She calmly stepped through the disc and into her office.
No sooner had she gotten the extra protections on many of the dangerous artifacts in her office, the door flew off its hinges. A hulking male figure dressed in leather pants and a iron mask withdrew the enormous mallet and stepped back to allow a troupe of harlequins into the room, followed by a woman in an intricate Renaissance dress. Azuria tensed, recognizing Vanessa deVore's followers in the Carnival of Shadows from their Venetian porcelain masks.
"Good evening, Azuria, dear," the master illusionist said. She raised her hand and a harlequin tossed a psychic knife at one of the staff before he could interrrupt with a relic designed to remove the Carnival masks. The luckless clerk disappeared in a shower of teleportation sparks as he was whisked to Chiron Medical Center. "We believe that you possess an item that should rightly belong to us."
Azuria frowned. "What are you talking about?"
The illusionist cocked her head to the side in amusement. "There is no need to be coy, my dear." She mimed reaching into her bodice and produced an illusion of an oil painting depicting a Japanese porcelain fox mask. "The death-mask of Lady Nogitsune. We know you have it, since you and Sister Psyche created it." A note of regret entered her voice when Azuria snarled. "A pity, we shall have to do this the hard way."
A leather-encased arm suddenly appeared around Azuria's throat, holding her in place as its matching counterpart snapped an ampoule of knockout gas under her nose. As consciousness fled, Azuria caught the reflection of an Arachnos Night Widow holding her.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll