Xaviers!

A dark alley, smoke rising from the ground as a monstrous-looking human runs through it only to be stopped by a sudden burst of flame as Sean steps into the frame. The demon turns to run the other direction when an arrow hits it's shoulder. The demon roars and charges at Chase when a young woman wielding a sword steps inbetween them, impaling the creature through the chest upon which it bursts into black smoke and disappears.

Starring Sean Hall, Vivienne Chinnoir and Chase

The hooded archer in green's eyes hardened behind his domino mask.

"I had that one handled," he said in a gruff, annoyed tone.

"Of course you did, which would explain the obvious kill shot." She yanked the arrow from the beast.

"Seems quite fortunate she arrived really, " Sean said as he walked up to the two. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from somewhere in the long coat he was wearing.

"It was a distraction," he protested. "Next shot was going through the eye. I'm not wasting one of your magic arrows by bouncing it off of a demon's skull from behind."

"Was your second arrow nocked? I didn't notice, next one is yours." She said from a squatting position beside the demon. She was inspecting it closely, poking it with the arrow.

"Your choice to get gutted by a demon over wasring an inscribed arrow, friend," Sean said lighting the cigarette with a fingertip. "There's a fee for carrying your dead arse to the Lazarus pit."

Chase grunted something unkind about wizards before approaching the creature. "So what is it this time? A baby eater from the third circle of death-pain?" he joked in the same serious tone.

"Well, it hasn't gone poof, possession, transformation maybe, but it's not reverting back to human."

Sean knelt where the demon had fallen and examined what was left. He exhaled a cloud of smoke not looking back at the others.

"A category as informative as oxygen breathers of South Asia," Sean said dryly as he dug in his pockets for the components of a ritual.

"I'll keep watch while you two figure out what we're dealing with," Chase said before riding out of sight on a grappling arrow cable. What, exactly, does he hook onto; the sky?

"Well, you are the one with all the books. I just have a magic sword and grumpy employers who tell me where to go and what to kill. This, by the way, was not on their list."

Sean performed some kind of ritual involving powders and blood, but it seemed to give little information about what the creature was or why it was there.

"I too was out for a pleasant stroll nary a care in the world with a magic sword and just happened to kill an upset entity of unknown origin," Sean said wryly before putting out his cigarette in the pile of demonic ashes. "Nothing concrete from the ritual. Seems like there's too much ash and not enough of whatever it was... Your employers have any thoughts on new demonic activity or is time for a drink before a sleepless night of dealing with books?"

"I can check." She pulled out what was no doubt the latest and greatest of smart phones. She texted a quick description of the creature and snapped a picture.

"Now, we wait." She toppled a mound of ash with the toe of her boot.

After a bit, her phone starts vibrating with a video call request.

She moved into what little light there was and took the call.

"V here. What are we dealing with?"

The face on the screen was cast in shadow, though the edges of the hair where the light caught it were certainly blonde and the background was unmistakably a library. The voice was masked, but still feminine. "Hard to tell from the picture, but looks like a physical manifestation. Flip the camera around and show me."

"It's sort of ashy, fleshy..humany, demony.." She said as she hit the flipped cam button.

The figure peers at whatever screen she's looking at and the change in body language suggests displeasure. There's the sounds of a few keys being tapped, then the figure speaks again. "Yes, physical manifestation. Which means you either have a tear or a summoner. I suppose there could be a hellmouth under the city, but I find that unlikely."

"Aren't those all supposed to be accounted for and under the lock and key of the Organization? Not likely something Management would 'misplace'."

"Of course they are. Which is why I said it's unlikely. Nothing is impossible. I would work the summoner angle. A tear will create more obvious effects in the terrain around it, so it should be easier to spot." There's a brief pause. "Management says that this is now your top priority."

"Seriously, they're pushing that artifact ping in the North to the back burner. I thought it was super important, some sort of world ending dooms day do-hicky, no time to waste sort of thing. Surely, these guys can handle this without me." She made a gesture with her head towards 'Chimmney Mage' and 'Robin Hood's' last known location.

"Management says this is your priority. We'll find someone else to chase the artifact. I don't advise rocking the boat on this, V. Contact me when you know something more. HR out." The call ended.

For just a moment, as Vivienne makes a sweeping gesture everything seems to distort and almost pixelate just a tad. Like her hand was dragging reality around her just a bit and it takes a moment for everything to snap back into it's proper place.

"What's the word from the shadowy people with distorted voices?" Sean asked.

"They want me to handle this..." she kicked a not so ashy ash pile.

"I was on my way North, to check out an artifact ping. A big ass one, they've been riding me for months about it, dooms-day time sensitive type of stuff. They said they'll have another team on it...but I can't let that happen...I have this feeling, I personally have to go and I have to get there first. Screw this, screw them!" She threw her phone into the middle distance.

Sean lit another cigarette as he considered Vivienne.

"Well, our pile of ash must be more important than the apocalypse then," Sean said, "Or we have two apocalypses, which means all three of us might need to work together. Come close to dying, be thanked not at all, and be paid even less."

"Fine, not like I have any sort of social life or anything to get back to. Hey. Archer! We've got a job, you in?" She shouted into the darkness.

The sneaky green sneak stepped out of the shadows. "I thought you'd never ask," he said.

"I can't promise riches and glory, but you'll be paid." She said to the mage.

"Any guess were to start looking for this...hole or whatever?"

[Screen Wipe to the exterior of a used bookshop, the only sign of the name is a placard on the front door naming it "Wanda's Eclectic Editions". The windows are obviously tinted to prevent sunfading of the books on display in the window, although 'display' is probably a generous term. 'Piled' would be more appropriate. Through the front door, there's a glimpse of the interior of the shop with shelves upon shelves of books ranging from paperbacks to leatherbound volumes. A brief glimpse of a man behind the counter, flipping through some sort of book.]

"Wanda's my go-to, she's a bit of a hoarder but I'd be willing to be she'll have an old map of the city we can lay leylines over."

"If she can find it in this haystack," Sean said examining the 'piles' of books.

Inside, the man behind the counter closes the book and moves back to one of the shelves, carefully replacing the book before returning to sit back at the counter, flipping through another book.

Chase Delacroix, former stupid rich party boy and armed vigilante by night, stood with his fellow... uhh... rare book enthusiasts.

"Reminds me of this shop in Hong Kong. It was a front for gangsters though."

Outside on the street, three women dressed in oddly old-fashioned dresses are walking. They seem like they could be triplets, save that one of them has white hair, one black hair, and one ginger. Their dresses are similarly differentiated, the white-haired woman wearing a blue dress, the black-haired one a green dress, and the redhead in a... red dress.

Well, they can't all be winners.

The three women seem... more than a little confused.

"Wanda's a..." V searched for the word.

"Wiccan, she has an alcove where she keeps the real deal, two rows down and three left behind the curtain and pay the chin scratches tax." With that she adjusted her sword and approached the trio.

All three felt, familiar in three very different ways. "Excuse me, Ladies. Do you need help?"

"We were... ah..."

"...looking for the shoe shop?"

"We seem to have taken a wrong turn."

"Shoes..." She gave the Sams a quick once over.

"There aren't any quality vintage or second-hand shops on this end of town. Unless you're looking for a cheap, take no flack from anyone type of style." She herself was sporting ripped jeans, a black top under a leather jacket and heavy military style boots.

"...why would you wear army boots? Didn't your mum raise you right?"

"Maybe she kicks things? Constantly?"

"That doesn't seem very nice."

"You'll have to pardon them."