It was raining buckets. Occasional flashes of lightning illuminated buildings and cast strange shadows. Streets became rivers and at the storm drains whirlpools formed where debris circled.

Down the lonely road were a gas station and a late-night buffet with a jungle theme.

You look at the buffet and there are cars there, along with two chained up bikes.

The gas station seems to be just waiting there.

Roaring down the street comes a group of five motorcycles, engines revving. Chasing a short man with a long beard. The riders seem to be seeking to terrorize him as they are not reaching his speed, but keeping up.

The short man starts to run for the Golden Safari.

"By the Sacred Trees Sanctuary Sanctuary!" the man is fleeing and nears the parking lot.

Another portly man with a long beard dressed head to toe in metal armor steps out of an alley near the parking lot.

"By the Analects of Courage! YOU FIENDS WILL STOP!" he presents an intricate sculpture to the bikers and three of the nearest six bikes crash and burst into flame that smells of brimstone.

Daniel looks up from his plate at  booth at the diner and see the 3 separate instances of spontaneous combustion. "Rover, Border patrol time." He drops his last twenty on the table and gets Rover's plate from the floor. "Hang on, pup" he pulls a couple of patches from one of Rover's vest pockets, and places the Forest Service patches on the velcro one either side of Rover's vest. "Just in case."

Daniel and Rover head out the door, past Killian. Rover growls at him a bit passing. "Lighten up, pup. He behaves."

They head for the flaming wreckage heaps.

You can plainly see just twisted lumps of metal while the other three riders, who are covered in chains and leather charge closer. The pudgy man pulls out a mean-looking hammer and charges towards the nearest rider. One in the rear seems to lose control of his bike and slams into a utility pole

"What size what that again?"

The young men looked at each other, unable to feign confidence now that Latrois "Diggs" Futillo put them on the spot. There was one thing he did enjoy working at the gas station: bustin' the chops of young bucks who loved thinking they had "big" energy. In a way he knew he was compensating. It didn't have quite the same feel as when he went about in his kutte. But honest work was honest work. MC rep didn't pay the rent.

Well...not always.

"The green one, brah." One of them said, the one with with that stupid backwards and upside down, nasty-avocado-color visor.

"Can't see it," Diggs lied, "Brah." He set a veiny tattooed forearm on the counter as he leaned forward. His neck stretched out past the fastened top button of his shirt, highlighting the rest of his inked skin that ran straight up to his chin. It was as though the rest of his tattoos fought to crawl out. There was more art than the scarred dark skin he was born with.

With a finger pointing up (ironically, of which an arrow was tattooed on the underside), Diggs said, "Point it out."

An older woman and her daughter were in line now. Marigold and Becca. They were regulars who liked to pick up the occasional forties. An odd choice, but who was Diggs to judge? Once they got over his appearance the first time they came in, they made it a habit to share conversation when things weren't too busy.

Becca liked complimenting his Tagalog, but Diggs knew the quarter of him that knew it wouldn't help him speak it much better. He figured that she liked the bad boy rep. She was a cutie, so he wouldn't complain

"Maaan, stop playin', brah." now the other one mouthed off, the one with the blonde buzz-cut and huge fake diamond earring. He glanced behind him towards the snickering ladies, sucking his teeth and flopped a hand. "That one."

"This one?" Diggs snuck a wink to the regulars and reached up with a lanky arm. He pulled down a yellow box, and spun it in his hands. "Grecoman's ribbed and refreshin'?"

"Brah! The one to the leeeft, brah!" Mari and Becca didn't bother hiding their giggles as Diggs feigned surprise, replacing the yellow pack for a red one. He held this one close to his face.

"Ant-man. Even closer. "Compact in e'ryway."

The woman were full on laughing, the young men full on angry, and Diggs full on surprised as sounds of chaos erupt outside.

"What the-?" Diggs grabbed his kutte - a heavily patched black leather vest - from off the back of his chair and donned it with the grace of a king and their cloak. He was already coming from around the counter as he says in Tagalog, "Drinks on me, ladies. Go ahead and get home. Be safe."

The two women rushed out, Becca passing a worried look to Diggs before the passed out the door. Diggs grabbed a baseball bat from under the counter. Wouldn't be more effective than the heat he was packing, but no use escalating yet. Besides, never said he could have a gun on the job.

Though they never said he couldn't.

With an after thought, the Iron Lion chucked the Antman special at buzzcut.

"Better be money on that counter when I get back." Diggs pointed the bat to visor's chest before heading outside.

Rolled a streetwise (16) on the bikers to see what Diggs knew of them and possibly what's going on.

 Killian's always had good timing... He thinks. He doesn't really remember what it was like Before, but he figures that he had to be doing the wrong thing at the wrong time to be swept up in whatever brought him here. And he could have wandered most any direction down in the storm drains but he got lucky enough to come up right in the middle of that bust-up and take an ill-aimed brick to the back of the head.

 Then there's his job - chase old Two-Grins off barbecue at the party for Razor Eddies parole hearing and he lucked into the kitchen job here at the Grand Safari... One short night for servers and he ended up working tables half the time on account of 'how good his costume was' and then one rowdy table of rich-kid sports babies and he's spending half his time on the door while working on his accreditation.

 Hell, that was even how he and Grrasha met... One over-loud argument in the back half an hour after he should have been off-shift and he went from wrestling an infuriated Gnoll professionally to recreationally and didn't get a lot of say in the matter.

 None of which quite makes up for the fact that he started working not long after they started enforcing the smoking ordnances and so he has to stand outside and get rained on as he shelters his dog-end with one hand and holds it in the other... Which means that he's out on the street when the ruckus starts up and he doesn't get a chance to duck inside before there's an exploding motorcycle, closely followed by Dan and Rover hustling past (Rover gets a courtesy 'don't try it' growl but asides from regularly and publicly proposing recipes for dog meat, he's never so much as snapped at the canine in earnest - too many of The Guys have pets for him to get bent out of shape over some growling).

 He sighs heavily, stubs out his cigarette on the wall and leans back to open the club door and signal his backup man, rumbling "Hey. Someone call the cops and an EMT. And grab the first-aid kit. We've got... I don't know, Renfair Midlife Crisis Man versus the Hells Angels out here." as he snags the fire extinguisher and starts to head over to the confrontation.

A feline hand gives Killian the extinguisher.
"Don't get killed, Grrasha's become a tolerable roommate since you started working here."


The first portly man with an over-sized nose huddled for cover underneath a chair and tables in sight of the door.

 "That's because she's taking all her aggression out on me." the burly doorman answers with an amused chuff that only contains a modest amount of resignation. He takes the extinguisher and hefts it over one shoulder as he walks up alongside the first man and lifts the table one-handed (tilting it in such a way that it provides cover from the bikers) in order to rumble "You might want to duck inside. I don't see much good of having you hanging around out here to rile them up."

Daniel examines the flaming bikes that have no indication of a rider on any of them and nods to himself, then heads for the utility pole. He points at the downed rider, "Rover, Seek Not Human."


OOC:
17:41, Today: Daniel rolled 32 using 1d20+17.  Animal Handling for Seek Command.

The man squeaks and bolts inside fast. Rover just starts growling and barking at the remaining bikers. Almost saying, Definitely Not Human.

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 12):

As neither man nor Dog can outrun a bike, Daniels keeps heading to the guy wrapped around the pole, reaching for a sidearm that isn't there, "Oh crap. Rover, Attack." He rushes over to help, or call off his dog, as the situation progresses.


OOC:
18:00, Today: Daniel rolled 22 using 1d20+17.  Attack (all) command.

 Killian paces over to the first of the downed bikes, only to slow down as he looks around - trying to take in the details of the scene such as whether or not there are actually any riders, where the man in the Halloween costume who lit them up went, who else is around... All that good stuff, as he weighs the extinguisher in one hand then snaps "Hey!" at Daniel as he steps sharply back from Rover.

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 14):

Daniel turns around at the call, "Relax, he's not going for you. Just don't make any fast movements around him. Besides, it's Vulcans that get his goat, not the folks at our favorite eatery."

All of a sudden Daniel gets a tap on his shoulder and Rover barks once.
"I need to relay the message while the warpriest is fighting. The Spider Queen is upset that a mere human bonded with an elven hound. Beware Dark Elves and demon attacks, the Sword Maiden may try to help. Seek allies, and remember your geas from the Elffather himself." The portly man with his over large nose sneaks back into the Golden Safari.

Daniel's head drops for a moment, "I really should have replaced my service weapon." He goes to see what Rover has caught, if anything.

The bikes contain no corpses. The warpriest is still running after the pair of the bikers fleeing into the Massachusetts night. Someone  up the street is singing drunkenly in Spanish and an eighteen wheeler pulls up to the gas station.

 "That's not the point you ass... You didn't even stop and find out who they were. You just lit up and set the dog on them." Killian points out as he checks over the bikes and extinguishes any fire, looking increasingly uncomfortable as he goes from vehicle to vehicle, finding no trace of leathers or helmets.

 Where possible, he checks through the paniers, searches for any personnel effects.

Killian finds a short fused length of chain in one bag. Another bag contains a picture of Rover with an assortment of harsh angular letters below it. A third contains so rapidly melting coins of a greenish metal.

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 19):

Daniel looks at Killian, "No, Scales, I saw what happened, which gave me a good idea of what they were, THEN I had the dog verify it. THEN Durante came out and confirmed it and expanded on it. Not my first border crossing."

Huh.

Diggs stood beneath the awning of the gas station, bat set in a wary position on his shoulder. He witnessed bikes burning, a dog and dudes dawdling while a fat guy chased riders driving off like errant cowboys. It wasn't the strangest set of circumstances he'd seen yet, but it was getting close.

The gas station opened as the two young men left, heads down and scurrying with a red box in one of their hands. Diggs waited for them to ride off in their suped-up street beat of a car before looking back through the gas station window. He could see the $10 bill on the counter. Looked like he wouldn't be hunting them down tonight.

He hadn't recognized the bikers; certainly none of the rival MCs he'd expect out a mess like this. They must have been faster on foot, as he saw no sign of them in the wreckage of the crash. The big dude was rummaging through their goods. He might as well see if he could get a closer look.

Before he could join them, the 18 wheeler slides in to the gas station. Diggs cocked his head. Didn't see too many 18s roll through. Couldn't really leave the gas station without making sure that got rung up.

El cantante borracho added some fitting background music to the scene.

There was a lot going on.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:33, Thu 29 July 2021.

 "Yeah, so did I. And neither of us knew jack about the assholes on the bikes or the tubby assholes they were chasing. Weird doesn't automatically mean you get to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer on their ass." Killian answers, holding up the fused chain and avoiding the melting coins as though they were... Well, melting.

 What he doesn't do is hide the paper, as it makes him hiss and look over at Daniel as he holds out the sheet with the glyphs on it "That said, you might have been on to something. This dog look familiar to you?"

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 23):

Daniel turns to Killian, "Yes, actually, it does. And I prefer Winchester references." He looks at the picture, then points at Rover, "Yep. See the resemblance. I guess the ...vulcans, have decided I should get that realtor's license after all. Selfish bastards. Culled him as a pup in a California forest, and as soon as one of them notices him grown and healthy they decide to reclaim him. Not happening."

"Rover, Heel." He heads for his Jeep and starts digging around in the back, removing his coat and putting on a vest, which he promptly starts filling, then replaces his coat.

OOC:
12:12, Today: Daniel rolled 29 using 1d20+17.  Heel.
Changing Load out now, should be ready in a couple minutes.

 "Yeah, I know what you prefer but you've got a Scooby gang albeit only one strong..." Killian answers, before snorting and adding "...or would you rather 'Scrappy'?" while using the fire extinguisher where needed and then picking up each bike, checking them over and wheeling them into the parking lot, off the road where they might cause even more trouble.

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 25):

Daniel shrugs, "I'd prefer...border crossers...that didn't look like Trekkie cos players. First the vulcan with the sword and demands in the woods, now you look like something Kirk blew away with a bamboo cannon. Well, sometimes you do, anyhow. I REALLY need a new boom stick."

The surly trucker gets out of the eighteen-wheeler and heads in and slaps a fifty on the counter.

"Forty in my rig. Ten to watch it while I grab a bite at the Safari."
He leers at a female customer and walks out.

You hear a snarl outside that is too loud for a dog and a masculine scream.

Daniel and Killian you see a trucker exit the gas station; you hear a snarl that doesn't come from Rover and a scream as the trucker vanishes into the sky.

Diggs hadn't bothered taking his kutte off once he'd gotten back behind the counter. Proper "work" attire was the last thing on his mind. He still held the bat in his hand, low beneath the counter as the trucker slapped bills down on the counter.

"Mm-hm."

Diggs never complained about free money anymore, as long as it wasn't a matter of pride. Every dollar could go to getting his girls the care they needed. Besides, he could watch a truck for a bit; the driver said nothing about filling it up.

Who eats at the Safari anyway? Diggs had always heard of it, but never been. Now that he worked right next door, the only thing he could tell was that it was some sort of costumed, themed, diner-bar nonsense. It was the sort of thing one expected more of in the Midwest, maybe even the South, than here. From the frequency of the in-and-outers, they must have had some good grub.

Back to business at least. Diggs offered a warm smile to the woman who suffered the trucker's leering look, but whatever reprieve he expected was lost beneath another cacophony. This time, a scream. That trucker's scream?

And that damn...dog? Nope. Not a dog.

Once again, Diggs jumps out from behind the counter, heedless of the few customers inside as he rushed back outside. He sees that big guy again, with that dog handler guy again. No sign of that trucker. The dog didn't seem nearly as menacing as what he had heard.

"What. The. @#$%! Is goin' on?"

The question alights through the air, carrying across the space separating station from safari, directed at the two men rifling through biker debris. Diggs wasn't quite yelling; he was loud enough to be heard, and frustrated with an obvious lack of current predicament.

"That biker ****," Diggs points with his bat to the pile of bikes the big guy was building, "that snarl...the **** happening? You two doin' this?" He points his bat to the borracho, speaking again in rapid fire Spanish.

With his other hand, Diggs pulled out a phone. It certainly wouldn't be for the cops...he wanted to live through the night. Might be worth the club getting a heads up anyway.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:30, Thu 29 July 2021.

In reply to Diggs Futillo (msg # 29):

Daniel looks over from where he's rummaging around in his Jeep, and grabs his old ballcap (the one with the forestry service logo) from the storage case and puts it on. His vest (and Rover's) also sport the decal. "Federal Agent. This is a crime scene. Please go back inside."

"Right. And that bouncer got a badge too?” Diggs leaned on his bat like it was a cane with an amused smirk that didn’t reach his narrowed eyes. “Because we all know Sparky and Spot from the green brigade will crack the case. Now when you're done %$#@-waggin’, do you want to share what’s goin’ on around my gas station?”

Diggs was a patient man. To a point.

 "Eh, guns are for people who can't get it u..." Killian starts to reply, only to look up sharply at the scream and grimace, setting down the bike he was wheeling over into the parking lot in order to look up sharply, his eyes gleaming for a moment as he grimaces and snaps "Hey!" to the two arguing humans.

 "Dick-wag later, we got trouble and I don't want it reaching the Safari, I ain't been paid yet this week. Diggs!" - because of course he at least recognises the guy even if they've never actually spoken beyond 'hey' in passing (how recognisable he himself is is going to depend largely on how familiar Diggs is with the various biker groups and low-lives around town - "It wasn't us, you could fucking see us. Some asshole's playing Predator games... If I were you, I'd either step back inside and lock up or get over here and help us find them. Your call."

The screams continue for what seems to be forever and a pair of red eyes stares out of the darkness. The screams are continuing, but seem muffled.

"Rude firen tur-'t even on- directions"

Rover chuffs and trots into the darkness.

What do you do?

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 33):

Well, Daniel, at least, follows him, of course.

Diggs' eyes had been fixated on Mr. Ranger Danger, but his head jerked at the sound of his name. He was used to it; Iron Lions had a way of getting around and getting known. Still, it was unexpected from the bouncer/server/smoker - Kyle, was it? - to remember his name. All Diggs could recall of them were their size and shared appreciation for fine smokes.

They were observant. Diggs could respect that. Certainly more than a treehugger passively telling him to fuck off.

"I'd either step back inside and lock up or get over here and help us find them. Your call."

There was the slightest pause as the muffled scream (from the sky) continued to reverberate.

Diggs muttered, "God damn it."

Diggs stuck his head back inside the gas station. He barked something, and three customers rushed out. Lights off, doors locked; station closed early.

The black biker rounded the side of the building to grab his bike: sure as shit wouldn't leave his wheels there! He coasted it in neutral down the driveway, crossing the street to the Safari. He’d just tucked tucked the bat at his back between shirt and kutte when he saw a red set of peepers in the dark. Another curse passed his lips as his biked pulled into a Safari parking spot.

He watched the dog trot into the darkness, towards what most certainly had to be red headlights and a shitty prank. Diggs loved dogs, but damn were they dumb. Tree trooper seemed even dumber for following, but Diggs understood loyalty too.

Diggs walked up to the big guy’s side. Without moving his eyes from the red-specks in the darkness, he asks "You really goin' in to that shit too? What's wrong with you mothafuckas?"

Daniel responds over his shoulder, "Well, SOMEONE has never owned a dog, apparently. Besides, I think I'm about to go to my first ... Trekkie Convention. I hope one of you two is packing."

 "Dropped on my head as a kid. Very sad case. Doctor says it's made me an incurable dumbass. Also my girlfriend works at the bar and she's a shit-load scarier than anything out there." Killian... Uh, Kyle answers as he hefts the fused length of chain he pulled off the bike in one hand and swings it a few times, experimentally before motioning to Diggs "C'mon, otherwise Scrappy-doo's going to get his ass bitten off." and moving up, taking care to do so no faster than Diggs himself - covering the big mans flank so that he can rely on them to cover his.

"Well, SOMEONE has never owned a dog, apparently."

And someone's never had kids, apparently, Diggs thought, thinking about his girls. He hoped the new family they were with was better than the last. Once his older daughter Maya had mentioned they drank and screamed at them, a phone call to his buddy Chew seemed to lead to their change of heart and the change of his girls' foster home. He knew he couldn't keep doin' that every time. He had to get them out.

Diggs took the bat out from his back, leaning it against his bike as he pulled out a slim rod from the saddle bag. He slid it somewhere along his waist, beneath his kutte.

"C'mon, otherwise Scrappy-doo's going to get his ass bitten off."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

*Cli-kak* The Glock slide snapped back into place as Diggs held the piece low and at the ready. Diggs pulled his phone again, only halfway out his pocket this time. Could help to call in to the Club for a heads up; Boston might even think to send some manpower. Then again, Diggs had no way of explaining anything going on. Plus, he hadn't gotten a chance yet to resolve some of that bad blood business.

He seemed to think better of it, sliding it back into his pocket, whipping out a flashlight instead. It seemed Diggs was a very well-prepared biker...

His movements were smooth, long legs striding in a low, predatory lurch as he kept at - Kaliden's? - side and rear, keeping his wrists crossed with light and barrel pointed forward. He kept Daniel out of his LOS. Mostly.

Diggs wanted more than anything to get to see his girls. Not die doing this stupid shit.

You enter into the darkness and see a brown-skinned woman in leathers petting Rover. She has bound the trucker hand and foot, shoving a small bundle of leather in his mouth.

"Man hu, bein hu".

Rover barks and pants

 "Okay." Killian states as he comes around the corner with Digger and into line of sight of the woman, the dog and the captive. He's still suspicious, but he lowers the chain slightly and half-turs to put his back to Diggs, glaring intently into the shadows around them as if daring any of the patches of otherwise innocent darkness to get up to something while he adds "Got to admit, I was not expecting that." in a slightly wry tone.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:57, Sun 01 Aug 2021.

"Me eitha."

Diggs meets...dammit, is it Kaleb's?...half turn with one of his own. He pointed his crossed wrists low' the barrel of his gun was pointed at a downward angle while his flashlight's luminescence splashed across the woman and trucker.

No one could have seen this coming. How was this not a trap.

Diggs sucked in some deep breaths, shook his head to get a braid out his face.

"You wanna keep him, lady?"

Diggs voice rumbled up from his limber form. Maybe his long neck was what made his voice so deep. He used his gun to gesture to the bound trucker.

"You can have 'im. Fuck 'im." He could swing that tractor trailer down to the chop shop and help out the club. He'd make a pretty penny himself, put it towards his girls. There were other pressing matters, but the natural occurrence of the thought took little time away from the present.

"But go 'head let that puppy go. It ain't hurt nobody." Unlike people, dogs were without spite or malice. He certainly cared more for the dog than the stranger.

All the while, Diggs eyes danced in the dark hoping this would not be his last conversation.

Daniel chuckles, "Oh, she isn't bothering Rover. But this isn't the dog park, pup. Heel."

OOC:
14:24, Today: Daniel rolled 31 using 1d20+17.  More Heel.

The woman looks up and sees Killian. She brandishes a dagger and crouches against a tree.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! Lhúg plural lyg adan plural edain!" she screams.

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 43):

Daniels tries to get a look at her ears, just in case.

Her ears are pointed.

 Kyle... Or is it Kevin? Stands there for a long second when the women screams and brandishes a knife at him, his expression shifting from suspicious to resigned before he mutters gruffly "Awwwh shit, a screamer."

 A beat later and he adds "Fuck it." before tucking the length of fused chain into the bag of his belt, throwing up his hands and screaming in a high falsetto before trying to hide behind Diggs, pretty obviously pretending to be scared of her, just to cut through the process of looking less scary than he obviously is, to her at least.

 Okay, as a plan it might need some work.

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 46):

Daniel's head drops again, "Another damned...cos player. Explains her issue with you, Scales. Still, the one that made demands last time spoke the language. His knife was bigger, but he'd never seen Raiders. Anyone speak...what she does?"

Diggs hears the "fuck it," knowing how often that comes with someone doing something he himself wouldn't like done, but feeling the need to do it. It was the sort of statement that made one pbrace themself for incredible luck or incomprehensible tragedy. So Diggs leaned into his stance, lowered his gun, lifted the light, and waited for the inevitable fucklessness.

Of course, "Kellen" screams behind his head.

"Got-DAMN it!"

Diggs jerked his head in frustration, wondering if they were freaking out like the trucker. It dawns on him, with their raised hands, what they were trying, and Diggs would have agreed that the plan could have needed some work. Still, couldn't fault a man for trying. Just for screaming behind him.

And Daniel's question was just so STUPID!

Well, that just wasn't a fair. Sparky there was just trying to help them figure out what was going on. It was Diggs that was growing increasingly uptight. He tried not to think of his girls, his Club, that traitor that still waited in their midst.

Diggs knew long ago that he got more angry as he got scared, a classic defensive maneuver. He just refused to admit it to himself.

But Smokey the Ranger was on to something.

"Hola, amiga," Diggs said. "Entiendes lo que estoy diciendo?" His voice still held that same depth that seemed too deep for his frame...or just right for his length.

He cleared his voice, then switched gears to, "Mas gusto mo ba ang Pilipino?"

Diggs wasn't a fan of revealing the languages he knew, but sometimes, in the words of "Kenan", fuck it.

The girl stops screaming, seeming to respond to your tone and the absence of Killian in her direct line of sight. She still cowers.

"Mellon?" she says looking at Diggs with dawning comprehension.

Diggs squints his eyes. He wasn't ready to holster his weapon, but for the moment it was pointed to the ground at his side

"Yeah, sure. Mellon. Sweet shit."

I mean, he's big, but he ain't that scary. Perhaps she'd seen him in that crazy costume he wears at the gig. Who knew?

And what was a "mellon"?

Rolled a 4 Sense Motive. No good here, boys.

Danie shrugs, "Ok, let's do it the old fashioned way." He squats down next to Rover and points, "Rover". Then he points back at himself, "Daniel". Then he points at her and raises an eyebrow.

 Killmonger? (No, that's a stupid name) screams only the once and it's more of a warbling sound than anything, but he snaps his mouth shut once he does so and only opens it again to complain "Not my fucking fault she's never seen a doorman before. And uh, no... But...", once he stops - since she seems to have calmed down a little - leaning past Diggs to inquire in a language that doesn't sound even slightly like it ought to be coming out of the throat of anything that didn't Rule The Earth Two Hundred And Fifty Million Years Ago "Tir wux renthisj wer vis exelovich?"

 Well, Diggs already tried Spanish and frankly, his ain't that great - he tries and all, but he's only been learning it for a while now.

 One way or another, he murmurs to the other two guys "Is it just me, or is this turning into a weird goddamn night?"

Ilyas had stayed out of sight as the evening progressed. Things had been growing stranger over the last few days.

He had watched the bikers and the havoc that followed. When the two men and the reptile headed off into the alley following the screams of the trucker he slipped along through the shadows watching them and the lady.

OOC: 08:29, Today: Ilyas Keal rolled 26 using 1d20+10.  Hide.

08:29, Today: Ilyas Keal rolled 29 using 1d20+10.  Move Silently.

The lady hugs Rover.
"Hu"
points at Daniel

"Mellon"
points at Killian

"Lhúg plural lyg adan plural edain"


She looks at Killian and says.

"Baw im ceri- ú- ped- lúg lammen"

"I got nothing. Maybe just let her keep that trucker fucker..."

Diggs debates walking away and leaving her be.

Daniel turns to Killian, "Do you own a mirror? It's mostly you. Well, and the Renn Faire guy, and the disappearing Bikers. "

She puts her hands on her hips and stares right at Daniel.
speaking in broken English.

"The Allfather definitely chose a dunce for us to travel to. The Lady of the Moondances bid me come and teach again! At least the dunce has some handsome friends."

Ilyas smiled to himself as he watched from the shadows. At least the lady spoke some English, it would make things much easier. Unlike when he had first arrived.

Stepping forward out of the shadows, his hands empty and in plain sight. "Good evening gentlemen. Is this a private party or can anyone join in?" Though with his hood pulled up his features were obscured but he tried to show that he meant no harm, at least at the moment.

Turning slightly toward the lady he bowed, "Man eve nin híril. Iolas Kealamin at cín service." 

Daniel grins at the elf, "Not a dunce, lady. I refused the commands. As I told the idiot with the sword (and the bullet in his leg), I'm not your realtor, and this isn't your world. Ask, don't demand. MAYBE, then, I'll be inclined to help a bit. And try and not be some flaming obvious you're an alien here, huh? I was trying to cover for your sloppiness. Who's the dunce?" Then he turns to Diggs, "Or do you want me to keep pretending for your sake, and keep calling her a cos player?"

Daniel shakes his head and turns to Killian, "Damned Elves think they own you just because you rescue a puppy one of them deserted in the wild. They could buy several therapists new pools getting counseling for that sort of delusion."

The woman seems upset.
"A dunce won't learn a respectable Elven language when dealing with displaced persons. I care not for any demands placed on you by the Allfather, that is between you and him. I was just sent to teach Elven."
She makes doe eyes at Diggs "Although handsome friends help you."

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 60):

Daniel grins, "Damn, Elves are Ugly Americans. They expect the folks are their destination to learn THEIR Language. Their is a poetic justice to that. Ok, lady, if your folks are too limited or self involved to learn the language of their destination, I'll learn yours. I wouldn't want there to be any misunderstandings, after all. But you could have just opened with that rather than insulting me for your lack of communication."

 "Well, sure... There's an Ikea like, an hour north of here just outside of Boston." Killian answers, somehow managing to sound very gently offended by the question, something that keeps him from registering Ilyas until the other man speaks, whereupon he gets a sidelong look and a shrug, "It's a public street."

 That naturally leads him to remark "Alien, seriously? And how the fuck is that an 'elf'?", making it pretty clear that of The Old World if he remembers much, that's not in it, and that he also hasn't read Lord of the Rings... Harry Potter, on the other hand? "I mean, shouldn't she be like, two feet tall and lumpy, dressed in a pillowcase or something?"

She gives Killian The Look of Doom.
"I am not a grubby gnome."
She sighs and looks at Daniel. "Most Elves can't  learn the Trader's Speech before being plucked from our world. All learn Elven though, not even the Allfather can stem the merciless tide of transport. I was merely thrown through to try and smooth our forced migration."

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 63):

Daniel looks at Killian, "I worked Border once or twice after Rover was fired and I quit. Freelancing sucks, and you take what you can get. Anyhow, 'Alien' is what the Powers that be call folks from other lands that are here without the permission of said Powers." He turns the the elf, "Usually just before they get locked up for coming here." Then back to Killian, "And she isn't one of Santa's, she's more Norse or Celt/Brit. Alfar or Sidhe. I'm not sure which, but I suspect Alfar." He shrugs, "I've had reason to do some research."

He turns back to the emissary, "What you need to do is set up a school. Teach the local language, and teach them how not to get killed or arrested due to a bad attitude. You know, like acting like they're in charge in the strange land they are in. I shot the last one that acted that way. And I am a nice guy." Then he looks thoughtful, "I wonder where he limped off to?"

Ilyas looked over at the one called Daniel, he seemed rather arrogant and rude. But he didn't know him or his past and it wasn't his place to judge.

"Bad attitude seems to be universally contagious. It's not like they are crossing over voluntarily or on a whim just to see what this world is like. I wonder how you would fair if you were torn from your home and dropped in a strange world with no family or friends or even the ability to speak the language." He sighed, "You have to remember in the world they come from the people are much like this world. Only a few know this world even exists. And if they start teaching everyone the various languages of this world, on the off chance that they may get dragged over, it would likely cause confusion and fear. And possibly even alert the more dangerous creature to your existence and then they would come looking."

Daniel shrugs, "Well, I wouldn't say 'I recognize that breed of dog, now you're our bitch.' They did. At sword point."

"Well, before we get any further I believe I need to introduce myself, Annallee of the House Elkas." the woman states.

She saunters up to Diggs
"Of course, you big boy can call me Anna."

 Shockingly, the evil look from someone who, soaking wet probably weighs less than the tail most people can't remember seeing on him doesn't result in Kill...monger? backing down, rather he just grins and rumbles "So, not a... gnome.", while leaving 'grubby' on the table.

 As folks start talking meaningfully and with knowledge of things he's spent a modest amount of time Not Thinking About (for lack of helpful answers, mostly) he shrugs and leaves it to them until the elf starts putting the moves on people...

 "Because of course she likes the bad boys." Killian rumbles with a degree of amusement, finally relaxing enough to tuck his chain through his belt and move over to the downed trucker whose abduction kicked all of this off, giving him a once-over in preparation to y'know, let him go and all that - since he did ask someone to call the police a while back and it's just a bad look to have folks tied up on the tarmac for no particularly clear reason.

You now hear sirens, clearly multiple sirens in the distance.

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 69):

Daniel looks towards the sirens, "Crap. Scales, get her inside your place. Introduce her to coffee. I'll be right in, I need to get my vest in the back of the Wrangler before the cops show up. And, you, Anna, no weapons. You'll be outmatched and taken where we can't help you."

Daniel and Rover head for the Wrangler to stash his S&R gear.

The sounds of sirens get closer you can already make out at least one fire truck, one ambulance and a motorcycle  cop.

 "Yeah, well since I had them called they're probably going to want to speak to me." Killian answers, offering the skinny 'elf' woman a hand as he steps forwards and then points over at the building he came out of, the flickering neon sign visible through the rain "Look, get over there and tell one of the fur girls Killian said Scrappy said to find you a table and a hot drink."

 That said, he watches Daniel take off and then moves, sighing to toss the chain on top of a bus (where he can snag it in a minute) before walking out into the road so that he can flag down the cops while working out what the hell he's going to tell them...

Ilyas stepped back out of the light and waited for the lady should she decide to take the offer and go inside. "After you Miss Annallee." He would go with her if she chose. Just to keep an eye on things until the authorities were gone.

Annallee follows llyas and good thing she does because seconds later the EMTs pull up and start examining  the trucker who is now unconscious. The fire engine just idles sitting at the gas station.

 Killian, no longer armed with anything more dangerous than a fire extinguisher heads over to the fire truck, raising a hand and calling out "Hey, thanks for showing! We got lucky though... None of the bikes caught in the end.", indicating the half-dozen pretty scraped-up motorcycles sitting in a heap in the parking lot of the club as he does so, by way of making it clear that he had a good reason for wanting fire services present when this all got called in.

The fire captain slides out of the truck.

"Good to see no new fires, well we'll just tag the rig with a DNO and be off. Some kind of firebug must be torching places. This is the third call tonight!"

Shortly after the engine pulls away, the cop pulls up and looks straight at you.

"You call in a screaming person earlier?"
She looks clearly upset.

 "Uhhh, sure." Killian answers when the fire chief indicates that the recent trouble has him well able to believe that there were problems without stopping to investigate the pile-up... Which leaves him with only the cop to handle, towards whom he's polite to a fault (because while he doesn't have form, he has friends who do) "Yeah. Bunch of bikers chasing a fat guy up the street. Couple of 'em totalled their bikes, fat guy got away, bikers made like smoke. Oh, and there was some screaming over at the petrol station. Weird fucking night, I tell you."

"Interesting, we haven't  got any reports of a fat guy chasing bikers." She grabs her shoulder mounted radio.
"Dispatch, be advised reports of a fat guy chasing bikers away from Golden Safari."

She looks at the gas station, "Reports indicated another person was here besides our unconscious trucker."

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 78):

Daniel returns, sans vest, "Did they mention my dog, too?" He indicates Rover, by his side. "I wanted him out of the way while you folks were driving up Getting run over by a fire truck is a hell of a way to lose your dog."

 "Kind of the exact opposite actually. Fat guy being chased by bikers. Couple of the bikers came off their wheels, and in all the confusion the fat guy got away, after which the bikers lit out. Haven't seen 'em since." Killian clarifies, for a given value of the word 'clarify', although nothing he's saying is strictly untrue "When that started happening, I had someone call 911 because we still had half a dozen angry bikers and a pile-up out front."

 Mention of the other guy does make Killian pause and seem to think for a moment, "Hey, yeah... There was another tubby guy in the alley over there. I think he was the one that caused the pileup, distracted the bikers or something. It all happened sort of fast."

"Really? Another fat guy disappears after causing a pileup?" She pulls out a card "Call me if you remember anything else. Names Officer Sara McDonnell." She says as she closes up her notepad and puts it in a belt pouch.

 "I'll do that Officer MacDonnell. Uh, visibility was for shit, but you might get something off the video camera that overlooks the parking lot... If it's not broken again. Other than that, I think the guy at the petrol station saw about as much as I did." Killian reasons, taking the card and actually attempting to be helpful on the basis that he didn't do jack shit that's out of line and if some out of town bikers are causing trouble, no one who matters will care.

 With that, he nods and starts to head back inside... Looking to see if Tubbs #1 is anywhere to be seen.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:30, Wed 18 Aug 2021.

Tubbs #1 is sitting at a table inside the Golden Safari chatting with a waitress drinking a soda.
"So the guy at the bar said "I'm not afraid of a little flour in a fight and started fighting the bandits. One spark later and KABOOM!" he yells and jumps up gesturing with his empty glass.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:53, Tue 17 Aug 2021.

 Once the officer heads off, Killian takes a moment to look around and then takes a moment more to stash the gangs motorcycles out of sight, removing most of the evidence of things having gone weird and then heading inside with a quick click of his jaws towards Grrasha and a nod to the 'Lioness' nearby before he heads straight for the table of Tubby Guy #1, where he growls quietly "Hey Alice, mind if I have a word with your friend here?", reaching out to take a chair as he does so.

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 84):

Daniel and Rover follow Killian into the diner. He needs some answers about folks ofdd nterest in himself and his dog.

"Sure, oh manager wants to speak with you soon." Alice says as she walks off to talk to Grrassha.

 "Thanks Alice, I'll head over as soon as I've had a word with Traffic Stop here." Killian answers, motioning for Daniel to join him with a low call of "Hey, Scrappy. Over here."

 Dropping into the seat, he eyes the man who was running from the bikers for a long moment, then extends a hand "Names Killian, I work here. Care to tell me what that was all about out there on the street?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:47, Thu 19 Aug 2021.

The man takes Killian's handshake. "Greetings, the name's Lorvan Stormcaller. Elf-friend and adventurer-errant of Talos, those were imp searchers sent by The Spider Queen. Scrappy is it? Her ex-husband is the Elffather and he decided to use you acquiring a cooshee as a way to provide elves that get forced across the Barrier. The Spider Queen will try to kill you in several different ways. Luckily, his daughter the Moon Maiden will try to help."

 Killian - perhaps unsurprisingly - has a firm, friendly handshake that he holds for a moment before letting go and settling back to listen, which he does with a straight face before sighing, "Steady on there, Gondor Calling. I've never heard of Talos, to me Imps are little suckers you slap to mine gems faster, The Spider Queen sounds like the nickname of a Kardashian, and Cooshee sounds like a sex act - an impression not helped by elves having their barriers forced."

 "I already have one deadly woman in my life trying to kill me a couple of times a week, and 'the moon maiden' sounds like another euphemism, this one for the time I have to make with the chocolate ice-cream and the tip-toeing... So, y'know, maybe dial it back a bit there?" - a short spiel in which it's made pretty clear that the impact The Shadow had on Killians knowledge of the world was pretty extensive... Or he just didn't know a hell of a lot to start with, also a possibility.

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 89):

Daniel shrugs, "It's spelled C-U space S-I-D-H-E. Or, sometimes, S-I-T-H. 'dog elf' I think is the literal gaelic translation. And I didn't 'acquire' it, I rescued it." He shrugs. "I like Irish folklore and I have a lot of reading time on my hands. After the elf in the forest brought a sword to a gun fight, I started doing some research."

He turns to Lorvan, "So, 'elf friend', know that I am NOT an elf friend. The elves are doing their best to make sure of that. Both sides of the divorce, and the kids. I'll tell you what I told the elf with the new limp: This is NOT their word as I understand this Shadow journey. Its ours. Worse, they don't even know how it works (witness a sword used to threaten an armed federal agent). Demanding service of the locals, especially in THIS country is going to backfire. The elves aren't in charge here, whatever they think they were back home. Far from it. They need to change tactics. Ask, and MAYBE they'll get some help. Demand and, well, not so much."

He glances over at the language instructor to see if she got the message, as well.

He holds his hands up.
"I use titles as it is less likely  to draw their gaze. If I mentioned the Moon Maiden by name, she would look and soon The Spider Queen would come, maybe by sending one of her Maidens or even by sending an Avatar. Both are bad news, any victory against either would bring sorrow as her Maidens are formidable combatants, eclipsed by her Avatars. The extra damage to the surroundings would be immense and rend the Veil that protects new transplants. I'll  be here establishing roots for members of my faith that get Forced through.
Know that I can be an ally.

 "Oh, Gondor here's as much a charmer as your girl Winky was Scrappy." Killian states, attaching the name of a female house-elf to the language tutor they just met and, in the process displaying an uncomfortable familiarity with the Wizarding World, his tendency to append nicknames showing no signs of slowing down as he looks between them, and then asks of Daniel "So what, this guy here's like a coyote only for weird elves and the folks chasing him were what, red-hat militia sorts?"

Ilyas sat quietly in the shadows at a nearby table listening to the conversation and waiting to see what would become of all the "Jawing" as an older gentleman he had recently met liked to call it.

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 92):

Daniel shrugs, "No idea, really, but I think he's just someone they buffaloed into doing their bidding, and the bikers were some sort of hired muscle supposed to convince me to behave. Awfully fragile, if so."

A tall man dressed in a three-piece suit walks in and strides up to Grrshhhka.

"Gretchen Longfang?" he says. She nods at her human name.

"I have a warrant for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one then one will be provided to you.
Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"

Grrshhhka growls and nods. Two female police officers enter and cuff her behind her back.

 "Huh. Guess I can't give anyone too much shit for that. Tell you what, you obviously know more about this than..." Killian starts to growl, only for the man with the three-piece suit to come in (which is remarkable enough in this part of town) followed by a pair of police officers.

 That brings Killian up out of his chair with a faint creaking sound where he was holding the edge of the table, although he more or less forces himself to let go and keep his head as he pads over - making sure his hands are in sight - to rumble of the trio "Hey, Mulder. Now I know you don't have probable cause because Gretchen didn't set foot outside tonight, so given as how if she doesn't finish out her shift I have to work a double, you mind showing that warrant?"

The "Mulder" person smiles.
"Gladly, I for one can't see how she can be an illegal alien arsonist."

 Which is where Killian extends his hand - slowly so as not to seem any more threatening than he has to - in order to accept the paperwork if it's offered, although not without snorting "Pretty sure she had a green card when she was hired, and if she was an arsonist, this dump wouldn't still be standing." in a tone more amused than accusatory, even as he's attempting to make eye contact with the big, dangerous looking woman in cuffs, hoping that she'll trust him to be at least a little helpful with this stupid situation, rather than just biting someone's damn' head off.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:31, Sat 21 Aug 2021.

You read the paperwork, but find that instead of a permanent hold warrant it is a detain and release warrant. Actually signed by the Lt. Governor herself and stating clearly the hold should last until conditions Agent McGee was briefed on come to pass.

 Killian is not a lawyer.

 Hell, he's only recently literate.

 But the words 'detain and release' are fairly startling to him from his pop-culture awareness of the way the U.S. works and his slope brow furrows impressively as he looks it over, lips moving while he reads before asking, in an obviously puzzled tone "Is this... I mean, is this even legal? I'm pretty sure that there's an Amendment about not doing... Well... pretty much exactly this." - he motions to the paperwork with his free hand.

 "Hey, Scrappy. What do you make of this, you were Federal." - turning, Killian shows Daniel the warrant.

Danie looks it over, "It means an elected State official is pretending to be a judge and acting well beyond her authority. Only a Judge can sign a legal warrant. I know a few folks in Justice if you want me to make a call. The US Attorney prosecuted all our cases, after all. It'll mean the Lt Governor being arrested and a federal investigation involving both the LG that signed it, and the cops that should have known is was worthless. Should make for an interesting news cycle over the next couple weeks. And a lot of lost pensions and cops in prison. Plus the political blowback, of course." He turns to the cop, "You sure you want to carry though this blatantly illegal warrant?" Daniel folds the warrant and puts it in his pocket.

He turns to Killian, "And it's the 4th Amendment."

"And the conditions have been met, I just need a moment of Mr. Daniel's time and we can complete everything." he says motioning to a chair beside him.

 "Huh, so... pretty sketchy stuff then? That mean I should be getting a copy of this so we can send it to the ACLU or something?" the big bouncer asks, giving the two local officers a hard sort of look but - still - remaining safely at a distance from them and making no move in their direction because getting tazed sucks no matter how tough you think you are.

 And then Mulder speaks up and Killian tilts his head, growling softly as he asks - looking dead at the agent and rumbling "You mean to tell me you were going to lock up Gr... Gretchen to get a handle on Scrappy here?"

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 103):

Daniel grins, "Sounds like they're Trekkie fans. And Lt Governor's aren't Judges, so the paperwork is invalid. But the guns aren't. So, state your piece, officer."

"Easy enough, the DOJ has realized that we failed with a certain extension of Project Blue Book years ago to deal with "tourists" from "other nations". We are getting another chance and since we have found out through certain Departments that you have a "connection" to these new "tourists" then we are prepared to extend to you certain job offers." He turns to Killian.
"I'm sorry it had to turn out this way, but Gretchen is now quite free to go." He motions to her hands and then to the officers. The cuffs are removed quickly, though the officers remain in the room.
He turns back to Daniel.
"So what do you think?" he says.

Daniel shrugs, "I worked Forestry for a reason. Border Patrol sucks the life out of you. What is it, specifically, you want done? As in: A job description."

 "Not as sorry as you'd be if you weren't carrying a badge and apologising." Killian growls softly, before turning away from Daniel to eye the big, intimidating-looking woman who's just had the cuffs taken off her and rumble, softly "Yeah, uh... Maybe you could go tell the boss I'm a little delayed?", just a little nervous of her temper - particularly given how she put up with being cuffed the way she did.

 Frankly, he wasn't sure she had it in her.

"I can't talk in more than euphemisms here, too many ears. What I can tell you is that it is connected with work we did against the Third Reich in World War 2. For more information, we'd need to be in a less public venue. Tell you what, call me at the number on this card and we'll set up a meet." With that he gets up nods to Ilyas and Annalee and leaves.

In reply to Agent McGee (msg # 108):

Daniel waits for the to leave, then turns to Killian, "Well, we can assume he's fairly blind. He couldn't see the shape of the actual ears in here. Of course, he doesn't have a...special.. . companion to help him out in that arena."

"What was that about?" Alice said as she calmed patrons sitting at one of her tables.

"Gretchen" gives a look at the door like she wants to hurt something and grabs her feline friend and heads to the backroom.

 Wincing painfully as he's flat-out ignored by the big woman, Killian pads back to Daniel as the Tabaxi and Gnoll take off for the back to comment "Yeah, so I'm in for a world of trouble.", scratching at the back of his neck with one hand and eyeing the Fed with the other, "So... uh, I caught about a quarter of that and made sense of less of it, but World War Two? That was the one with the Germans and the zombies, right? Wasn't that like, thirty, forty years ago? Why the hell bring it up now?"

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 112):

Daniel shrugs, "Seventy five years ago. Hitler had a reputation for thinking magic talismans from history would win the war for him. Ark of the Covenant, Spear of Destiny, etc. There was even a  movie about it."

 "Hitler, Hitler... Huh, I thought he was like, some sort of mythical figure... I think the only name that turns up on the internet more is that Jesus guy." Killian answers, seeming a bit surprised "I guess you learn something new every day. So uh, are we good here? Because the boss wanted a word. Can I leave you with Gondor here?"

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 114):

Daniel shrugs, "I'm still trying to figure out why pot heads celebrate his birthday. Yeah, go, I'll wait here."

 Nodding, Killian indulges in a short wave in the general direction of Gondor and heads for the back while rolling his shoulders, flexing his neck and generally working the kinks out while hoping that it's not bad news.

 Who's he kidding? Of course it's bad news, the boss wants a word.

"Good, Killian you're here come in and close the door."
The portly man sits down.
"I've got some really good news for you and some slightly bad news."
He opens a drawer and tosses you a set of keys.
"Good news, corporate saw fit to pressure me into giving a deserving employee a promotion. Bad news, for the foreseeable future we are working nights together until you get trained enough to close up with the people who volunteered for the late shift. After that, who knows you might be running one of the restaurants. Also, with the keys comes a pay raise to $14.50."

Daniel, if you want more info about WW2 make an Intelligence check adding any ranks in world history

Anyone else can make an Intelligence check at a -10 penalty for the same information

 Killian, naturally enough does so - he has to do a bit of a dance around the chair of course, because none of the damn' things were designed for someone with the tail most humans don't even notice but he long ago got people used to his habit of turning and straddling them (blaming it on a chequered history of bar-trouble in the past) while facing someone.

 He sits up attentively, particularly when the keys are slid across the desk-top, ones which he catches and accepts with a blink and a grin, answering "Well damn! And I was half expecting a chewing-out on account of stepping off-site to go and see about that bike incident out front." and then snorting softly, "Eh, you're not so bad and I can manage nights, once I get my sleep schedule sorted out. Uh... Shit, one problem though. Corporate relationship policy? Is this going to get in the way of me and Gretchen? Because if it is, I am absolutely not paid enough to be the one who tells her. Not even at... Holy crap, fourteen fifty?"

OOC:
Closest I come to History is Current Events, I'm afraid.

21:58, Today: Daniel rolled 12 using 1d20+2.  Int roll.

Craig laughs
"I like you too, as long as you keep it quiet. None of the bigwigs will care. I'd hate telling my fiancée and between  you and me she can hit a cat with a sneaker at 60 yards. Guess that goes with being a nurse." He said.

Daniel you can remember some facts about a World War 2 Era gun from a documentary called a Luger

 "Gretchen'd be more likely to throw the cat... But yeah, not quite sure we're at the fiancée stage... We're more at the 'oh, hey Gretchen, please don't kill me' stage but we're getting there." Killian answers dryly, only to fish his own key ring out of his pocket, attach the work ring to it and then brighten "Still, the raise is going to help. You'll drop me the new schedule first thing tomorrow?"

Ilyas kept quiet during the incident with the detective, if that was truly what he was. No need of drawing any unwanted attention. As the man left he politely returned the mans nod.

"Well that was somewhat interesting and amusing to say the least."

The talk about World War 2 and a Third Reich was lost on him. He had intended several times to learn more about this worlds history but time and other matters had kept him busy.

"First thing." and then Craig went back to typing madly at his keyboard.

 "Okay, I guess I'll go check on the crazies from earlier. Thanks boss!" Killian answers, heading out of the office and quickly checking the parking lot one more time from the back door, walking the perimeter then after a few minutes heading back in to where Daniel and the others are.

When you walk outside Killian, you see two of the riders from before. Apparently, they are chattering in some language amongst themselves.

They seem to be distracted by something; what do you do?

 OOC: Depends on where they are. And where the two policewomen and the Fed who just went are. In fact some more detail in general might not hurt. ^_^

The policewomen and the Fed are near the side entrance and the Fed seems to be taking a message on a old looking phone that you need to pull the antenna out on. They don't  notice the bikers, just yet. Apparently  one of the bikers is trying to repair his bike and failing. Each failure in repair elicits a seeming tirade of disdain from the other.

 Killian naturally enough growls and ducks back inside, waving for the attention of one of the staffers and then rumbling quietly "Hey, can you tell the guy with the dog out at table [tablenumber] that two of the guys who tried to run over Gondor are sniffing around out back." before putting on his leather jacket, zipping it up and stepping outside again to walk towards them, rolling his shoulders and stating - loudly enough to draw the attention of the two officers - "Hey! Assholes! What the hell was that about out front? Six bike pile-up and some guy claiming you were chasing him?"

The two "bikers" turn and start to advance.

OOC: Roll initiative

 OOC: 11:28, Today: Killian Shadowkin rolled 13 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.

OOC:
I'm going to be away for most of the morning. I'll update when I can.DId you want seperate Initiative rolls for the dog?


09:13, Today: Daniel rolled 16 using 1d20.  initiative.

The police and the Fed round the corner.
"Halt! Or we will use lethal force!"

Daniel heads for Killian (or, at least, the door the staffer came from) "Rover, let's go hunting."

OOC:
Not sure when you want me, GM, so I'll let you tell me when I arrive at whatever combat is about to happen.

The "bikers" keep advancing and the officers send off synchronized shots to their center mass. But they keep on coming.
The Fed seems to be fumbling with something in his coat.

OOC: Killian they are ten feet away; you can move five feet to them and attack or wait, Daniel you can step out of the door and attack gaing 1/4 cover or wait one round and make an attack at their rear flank.

 Two men stand up from their bike and start to walk towards him purposefully... Pretty much so far, so normal for Killian. They're a bit more sober than the sort of folks he usually has to deal with, but they're still just a couple of schmucks who don't know what they're in for if they start something and...

 'Halt! Or we will use lethal force!'

 ...snapping his head around to stare in disbelief at the cops, he asks "What the fuck?" before they start shooting and the big doorman dives for cover with a yell of "Are they fucking black or something? Shit!"

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 137):

Daniel and Rover stay in the doorway and utilize the cover it provides until the shooting stops.

The Fed pulls out a small pistol.
"Halt! I am authorized to employ banishing force under the War Powers Act."

 Killian - who is in the middle of this top-notch example of fine American-style policing - stays the hell down and attempts to extract himself from the line of fire as bullets fly towards the two bikers who haven't actually done anything except approach him yet.

 ---

 Staying on the defensive and trying not to get shot.

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 140):

And Daniel and Rover are staying inside the doorway for much the same reason.

Ilyas watched as the staff member say something to the guy the elven dog had evidently taken up with. The comment to "Rover", humans had the strange names for animal companions, was interesting. Normally he would have followed along but he wasn't asked and he preferred to not leave Annalee alone at the moment. there was no telling what creatures may have crossed over during this recent event.

Motioning to the closest waitress he orders a round of beers for the table and motions for the gentleman calling himself Lorvan to join them. He thought he could hear the sound of gunfire out back but decided that should the two need help they would have asked.

"So Lorvan was it. How long has it been since you crossed the barrier?"

"Less than a day, by my reckoning, storm knows where I'm  going to start."

One of the bikers sprouts a chitinous tail and points it at an officer and sprays a stream of foul green acid.
The officer goes down screaming. "I'm  HIT, I'M  HIT!"
The other biker conjures  flames in its hand and narrowly misses the other cop igniting a bush.

 As the first of the bikers responds to being opened fire on by the trigger-happy government agents, even a fairly uncharitable soul like Killian's has to credit them with at least a degree of luck, if not judgement in their choice of targets...

 ...and so he grunts a disapproving "Oi! None of that, we just had the fire department over!" before proceeding to step up and punch the firebug biker in the temple, putting enough force into the blow to shatter a cinder block in his (not entirely) unfounded belief that someone who can tank a bullet isn't going to be impressed by a love-tap.

 ---

 18:51, Today: Killian Shadowkin rolled 18,11 using 1d20+11,1d8+6.  Killian smash.
 Non-lethal damage, of course.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:21, Tue 31 Aug 2021.

Daniel points at the tailed biker, "Rover, attack." then closes and throws a

OOC:
16:19, Today: Daniel rolled 23,4 using 1d20+3,1d4.  Daniel Attack, CMA lethal.
16:18, Today: Daniel rolled 6,7 using 1d20+5,1d8+4.  Rover attack.
16:17, Today: Daniel rolled 36 using 1d20+17.  handle animal.

Killian misses and the biker turns towards him and cackles maniacally.
Daniel's first attack hits the biker sending him to the floor. Rover misses all of his attacks.

The Fed points a small pistol at the flame tossing biker and it lets out a high pitched screech.
The biker doubles over like he's been hit by a two by four and bursts into flame.

Daniel and Rover double team the tailed biker, but all they manage to do is distract it.

OOC:
08:41, Today: Daniel rolled 8,4 using 1d20+4,1d4.  Daniel CMA lethal.
08:40, Today: Daniel rolled 10,8 using 1d20+5,1d8+4.  Rover Bite.

 When his first blow skims past the forehead of the patently skilled biker without making solid contact, Killian growls a rough "Laugh it up, chuc...", only to break off mid-sentence in favour of a startled yipe when the man out and it catches fire.

 Since beating up a man on fire is the story of thing only a Scotsman would do, he therefore turns on the other man, and attempts to drive a boot up between his legs as he fends off Scrappy and Rover.

 ---

 13:33, Today: Killian Shadowkin rolled 19,11 using 1d20+11,1d8+6.  Punching the other one.
 +2 for flanking, I think.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:58, Thu 02 Sept 2021.

Killian manages to connect with the now revealed to be rather a freaky biker and it crumpled to the ground.

The Fed rushed over and slapped on a pair of cuffs on the biker.

"You have the right to stay silent. You have the right to a lawyer, if you can't afford one it will be provided."

He kneels next to the fallen officer, and withdraws a radio.
"I need a Class 6 Bus and a Class 7 cruiser to the Golden Safari ASAP." he straightens and draws out Sunglasses.

"Mr. Daniels, my next action depends on your decision to help us or not." Agent McGee says hand in his overcoat.

 Killian meanwhile grabs the fire extinguisher (Remember that? He had it by the door) and hastens over to the first yahoo, hosing him down with rapid blasts of cold, expanding fire-retardant foam as he announces cheerfully "You know we've all seen Men in Black, right? So I'm absolutely prepared to close my eyes and swing this extinguisher wildly.", adrenaline still running through him in a torrent after this outbreak of lunacy.

Dan smiles. "The dog still hasn't bitten anything. His next action depends on your next action. That being said, I'm for hire, and have worked for more than one federal agency. All you have to do is actually ASK, rather than acting like one of the...let's call them illegal aliens... that keep trying to intimidate me into following their demands. Well, ask and pay me, of course. You know: hire me."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:14, Thu 02 Sept 2021.

"I'm prepared to offer a G-3 salary plus performance bonuses. I also am allowed to offer citizenship for certain support individuals in your organization."

In reply to Agent McGee (msg # 153):

Daniel shakes his head, "G-5, if you're going civil servant rates. Full reinstatement with full insurance coverage for Rover. Or you pay full civilian rates, including an expense account about double a federal per diem. I have overhead."

"I'll have to work on that but the full insurance is a given. Now we need to compensate your companions and get a full scale operation up and running."

 "You ever feel ignored and unappreciated?" Killian asks the mutated biker he's just finished extinguishing, checking to make sure that he's completely extinguished and then 'delicately' smacking him upside the head to make sure he's knocked out before handing him over to the WPC for arrest and processing.

 With that, he shoulders the extinguisher and nods to both gentlemen with a rumble of "Scrappy, Mulder." before he heads back inside, whistling.

"Mr. Killian, I believe we can work out generous terms. After all, the government might be able to find a use for you in a certain Bureau. If Mr. Daniels agrees then we can have you in a different area." the Agent said as the modified ambulance and cruiser pulled up.

 "I've got a job, Mulder... And a girlfriend, who you, Starsky and Hutch just threatened to drag off in chains, which - in case you're a little slow - means that you can kiss my lily-white ass with your 'suddenly playing nice' bullshit." Killian announces gruffly as he heads back inside, putting the fire extinguisher to one side to be recharged when the guy comes around again and picking up a fresh one to replace it with (then signing the incident book).

Daniel clears is throat, "Scales, he just offered you a Green Card and a legitimate Social. The flip side of that is... well, that depends on the administration, but usually not great."

 "No, he just used my friend as a cheap poker chip, tried to throw his weight around like his doesn't stink, started shooting on sight fuck the guy in front of the bikers... I don't know exactly who trained this asshole, but do you really think they're any smarter or more considerate than him?" Killian answers gruffly, before throwing in as he heads inside, "Besides, I just got a promotion and I'm going to be working extra shifts the next few weeks."

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 160):

Daniel shakes his head, "No, I think they work for the government and can get away with whatever they want, as long as the press can't prove it. As you said, the down side of saying 'no' affects your girl friend. So quit saying 'no'."

 "Way I see it, this asshole is going to asshole. All I can do is make the paperwork more trouble than me." Killian answers with a shrug, "Well, that or have him realise that he's just fucked up more or less everything he came here to do because his approach sucks harder than a trailer-trash teen."

In reply to Killian Shadowkin (msg # 162):

Daniel clears his throat, "You watch the news much? You see how they treat locals coming into the country without papers? Now think hw they treat someone that doesn't actually exist? I don't think paperwork comes into it. You folks will just disappear."

"I was extra lucky with my superiors Mr. Daniels, I got a G5 salary, an expense account, a nearby compound for "tourists" and compensation for your staff."
This time the agent was alone, with no officers in sight.

 Having been less than impressed with Mulder - shockingly - Killian just offers Daniel a nod of the head before ducking inside as the other man arrives back from his negotiations, with every intention of reassuring those inside that the gunfire and screaming was nothing to worry about...

 ...and to collect the sand bucket, spackle tube and spray-paint needed to cover up any bullet holes in the outside of the bar. Because y'know, customers get weird about that sort of thing.

In reply to Lorvan Stormcaller (msg # 143):

"Well Lorvan welcome to a new world. It does take some getting use to. Especially the way these civilized humans go about doing things. It can really be an experience in frustration." He could hear all the commotion from outside but chose to ignore it. He didn't need the authorities causing him any more trouble.

"If you don't mind some advice. I may be able to help shed some light on things here."

"Don't mind, been tryin' to get my bearings." Lorvan says leaning in his amulet clinking on the table.

"Number one you will probably want to change your name a bit. Lorvan is good but Stormcaller might need a little bit of changing to fit in.  Maybe just drop the call off the end. Lorvan Storm has a pretty good ring to it."

Thinking about the last few years and his own troubles getting use to this culture he continued. "Most humans will not even pay you any attention. So at first get a job that pays in cash." He took out his wallet and showed Lorvan what he was talking about with the paper bills the humans used. "At least until we can arrange a permanent identity and the required papers. Then if you want you could try for more permanent work with all the taxes and so on."

"Oh and if you have any gold or silver coins with you don't try paying with those. It will cause you a lot of trouble trying to explain, best to find someone to sell them to for their value in cash." He paused to give Lorvan or Annalee a chance to ask any questions and to take a sip of his drink.

Danie looks at the Agent, "So, when do I get my Ray-bans and flashy thing?"

The Agent laughs.
"The neuralizers are on backorder, so are the Raybans."
He then smirks.
"Although Q is coming up with some toys, James."

In reply to Agent McGee (msg # 170):

Daniel quirks an eyebrow in his best 'vulcan' way, "Don't you mean Agent McQ, Agent McG? Let's keep the movie references American. Good practice for an ICE cover story." He directs his next comment at Rover, "God ICE is our best cover story..."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:15, Tue 21 Sept 2021.

The bullet holes cover rather nicely with the sheetrocking compound and someone happens to find paint that kind of matches to cover them.

 Sheetrock's expensive stuff... Killian's got a tube of dollar-store approximate-grout, a few sample tins of paint that more or less match and a bucket of sand to throw over the bloodstains (although the acid drizzle from the return fire is a little more challenging), the general domesticity of the task taking a good ten minutes or so during which time presumably the police are able to address the pickup of the demon biker(s) and generally get their shit in a sack.

 Once the building looks more or less back to normal, he wheels the battered bikes around back so as to keep them out of the way of normal parking then looks in on Gretchen and the manager (in that order) to check they're both okay (and neither has orders for him).
This message was last edited by the player at 07:33, Fri 24 Sept 2021.

Daniel turns to the Man in Black, "What do you want to do about the guy in the hoodie?" He gestures to Ilyas.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:43, Wed 22 Sept 2021.

"That depends on you, do you think we just need to do a quick check on him to make sure his papers are in order or do we need to haul him into the local offices for questioning?" Agent Mcgee said.

"Our lead researcher is a James Bond buff. So Q is his callsign, make one up or you'll get stuck with one like mine."

In reply to Storyteller (msg # 175):

Daniel shrugs, "Ranger. Forest, not Park. I don't know the guy, so I can't vouch for him. Besides, I can get a sidearm at the office...and find out where the hell it is."

"Alright then, shall we go "question" a "suspicious individual"? He says as he reaches into his coat and puts on a pair of gloves.

 Killian continues to wait for a response from the manager and Gretchen, since the former may have changed his mind about the nights plans after the gun battle in the parking lot, and the latter may be kind of annoyed about the inexplicable arrest attempt.

"Well, we might have to close a little early tonight due to the "activities" in the parking lot.

Daniel shrugs and follows McGee, Rover at his side.

 "Activities? I guess that's one way to describe a gunfight... Makes sense though, business is going to be shitty all night with those cops around." Killian agrees, rubbing his chin with the faint rasping sound of scale on rough scale masquerading as skin on stubble.

"Go home to your girlfriend, heck I caught some of the action with her and the cops.
She'll likely need someone to talk to that isn't her roommate. If it was earlier, I'd say get her chocolates and flowers." Craig says as he starts dialing a series of numbers to report things to the right people.

 "Chocolate and flowers? Ehhh, she's more of a steak and bottle of Jack kind of lady... But truth be told, that's a pretty good idea." Killian answers, chewing on the idea for a minute before deciding that yes, with his raise he can actually afford that.

 Heading out of the office with a "Thanks boss." he goes looking for 'Gretchen'.

Grrshka is at home, wailing away on a heavy bag with her hands wrapped.

 Killian spends ten minutes or so looking for her at work before their mutual tabaxi friend let's him in on her having headed home and he makes his apologies, grabs his jacket and heads for her place via a half decent store where he picks up a good steak and a bottle of something that'll burn going down, then via his place where he picks up an iron skillet.

 Shortly afterwards, he's letting himself into her apartment without a word and seeing up in the kitchen while she pounds seven bells of hell out of the bag - better it then him

"Just give me a couple of minutes to cool down. You can start the steak-the rarer the better. We need to talk."

 "As if I wasn't  worried enough already." Killian rumbles with some small amusement while heading towards the kitchen - pausing to lightly bite her scruff affectionately - where he sets to rummaging through the cupboards for the handful of kitchen tools he's either bullied her into buying or left here himself.

 With precision and competence that would shock his co-workers he makes with a tenderiser and salt then pre-heats a cast iron pan, humming with the sort of contentment that even the day he's had can't seriously disrupt.

The gnoll woman leans against the door holding a towel looped around her neck.
"I understand your reluctance to work with those humans..." She spits the word human
"...but we seem to have a problem now. We've been living under the radar for so long and all it would take is for them to take a closer look at our paperwork that isn't the best.
This life is more complex and better than in the hordes of The Butcher. There we pillaged and burned civilizations with his blessing, now there is organized governments; things that would drive gnomes crazy in their complexity..." She lets out a chuff of laughter.
"I don't want to lose this."

 Turning away from the pan, after flipping the steak to cook it evenly Killian crosses the small amount of space the kitchen affords then reaches out to take her hips in hand, drawing them together and resting his head on her towel.

 "I still don't remember much. Swamps. Stone weapons. Killing intruders, blood in the water." he murmurs gruffly "I doubt I'd even have met a Gnoll without a weapon in hand, let alone... Well." his hand shifts, gripping the scruff at the beach of her neck to press their foreheads together "This relationship might have started out as your idea... And we've each taken our share of wounds from it... But I don't want to lose it either. I take it you want me to tell the asshole I'm on board, even after what he did to you?"

"In spite of what he did. These humans can be rough to deal with, but maybe by accepting his offer we can make it easier?"

A yowl comes from the other bedroom.
"Dammit,cut the sappy stuff! Some steak would be great!"

 Their relationship was largely her idea - Gnolls having an aggressive matriarchal streak a mile wide - but it's developed a lot since that point, much to their mutual surprise and the burly lizardfolk is opening his jaws to kiss her around a gruff "Then that's it, I suppose. I'll let Scrappy know..."

 Just in time for the yowl to stall matters abruptly, a fond sigh escaping his jaws as they close so he can call back "It'll be ready in about three minutes. You're doing the dishes though!"

"Dishes are no problem. Hey Kills, when do ya think the diner'll be back open?" She says looking at you.

 Gretchen's Tabaxi room-mate has walked in on worse things than a modestly romantic hug before now so she doesn't get more than a risk look from Killian.

 "Hard to say. But it'll probably be sooner now I've agreed to help that racist piece of shit with his investigations." - which is where his keen sense of timing draws him away and back to the steak, now freshly apportioned three ways instead of two (and fortunately, a fairly mighty slab to begin with).

 Barring interruptions, the evening progresses to the point where Killian can signal his reluctant agreement to the agent, possibly by way of Scrappy.