To X, whom this might concern:
The night seems to swallow the sound of your shots as you trigger your narrow burst at the next jink of the target. You don't hear much, but the shady dark greys and weird patterns as highlighted by what looks to be a dull red overspray - in a streak along the right side of the mark. Now, whoever he is is readily visible (almost a pun, there) and easily tracked. At least that's the plan. The red-streaked weired moire pattern ducks down and to the right - you suspect it has rolled into a nearby alley or parking area to get out of the line of fire, and when you think about it, that's not a bad tactic to employ, just now. Naturally, you're about a block to a block and a half away, so you really can't see any details at this range, hunkered down as you are.
But you *did* hit the target! Bet *they* (whomever they were) weren't expecting that.
Neither was the neighborhood. Down on that end of the block people are rustling around, seemingly uptight about something. You note that they're clearing out of the area, going inside and closing doors and such. I wonder what would cause all that hub-bub?
Then you get a comms message on the group push - it's Ace's voice: "Primary. Three. Unidentified inbound. Possibly magical. Advise Fire, Flee, or Maintain Surveilence. Out." You see a live video shot of the street level, with people wandering around in a pattern that native New Yorkers would call "normal". Could one of those people be harassing them, apparently from range? Why is it so difficult to see which one of them is the problem? They all look fairly normal, to you...
To Block and Ace, to whom this very much concerns:
Block notes Ace's comms charge, "Primary. Three. Unidentified inbound. Possibly magical. Advise Fire, Flee, or Maintain Surveilence. Out." The live broadcast image shows everything streetside EXCEPT the creepy-crawling heebie-jeebies that Ace just pointed out. Odd. You see them directly, yet the comms can't see them at all...
As you two are communicating your plans and preparing to execute, you *both* hear a thunk near the blocky air conditioner behind/beside you. A gravelly voice grinds out, "That'll be enough of that, thank you!" You glance around for the source of the voice, but spot nobody. "Don't know what they told ya', but there's nothin' up here worth yer life. Go on and lead your happy life away from here, before it gets terminated!" A glance back reveals an empty street where the shambling cataclysm *was* - but it's nowhere to be seen. "What's the matter?" grates the heavily-worn voice, "You guys DEAF? Get out!"
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