NOTE: Your level of detail is a little "different": in addition to your incredibly hightened senses and the serendipitous blend they provide, you have your skills and experience in the "dark arts" to guide you further, and once perceived these events cannot be un-perceived. Blessing *AND* a curse, that...
From the way Reggie and friends are acting, you (kind of) know the gist of where they come from. The one to Reggie's left simply has to be a spell-slinger, or at least an adept from the way that he conducts himself. The one on the right is obviously a heavily-cybered weapons monger, and he exhibits it in everything that he does. Reggie, in the center of the two of course, seems to want to concentrate his fire on Jillian, to no effect whatsoever. Well, the bullets leave neat-o green leaf-shaped marks on her shield as they ricochet off and zip away like angry bees, hitting nothing of consequence. From the far end of the circle a shadowy figure launches what looks like a trio of black fireballs, but your enhanced sensorium, as well as your jacked-up reflexes note the flecks of super-dense metallic shuriken spinning within their dark, fiery hearts! Proof positive that at least one of the Kuji-kiri are present: those soul-less b7s have always sought to bridge the gaps between "No name, no art" and absolute sorcery --- your hackles are rightfully raised at this revelation. The three black-blazing spinning stars of doom "blow through" the weapons master's firearm, shredding the metal as effectively as, well, a shredder. The weapons guy stumbles sideways - to his right - with the recoil of the energy lashing through his weapon, leaving only the pistol grip and the extended rear stock. You notice that the gun bunny's left arm, which *was* holding the forestock of the weapon has been chewed off at the elbow, blood trickles from the stump that appears to have been cauterized, but badly. He sinks to his knees, fumbling for something on his belt, something on the left side of his body, where his ruined arm can't reach...
Something sort of twitches in the fabric of reality, and you see a similar shadowy "hole" appear in the same space as the dude on the left, whose head rocks back as he screams silently. In milliseconds dark green scaly tentacle-things wrap around him and he vanishes, no flash, no poof, no smoke. Just... ...gone. But that's not the weirdest part of the experience. No. With a weirdly warm cackle, something like a mirthful old aunt laughing, the blackened, shielded area just collapses. Foomph! All is plunged into silence, like that deafness suspended after a loud explosion. Only you can still hear the street noises, the distant siren, the helicopter overhead.
The helicopter overhead! You didn't hear it a second ago - that's pretty trippy! But your eyes flick upwards just in time to see NYPD's best of the best coasting lazily over the park. They're not actively searching yet, because their searchlights (visible, nor infrared) are active. It's just glacially powering across the park, heading towards some place downtown. Maybe they're interested in some take-out pizza... |
