Back for round Two (open)

[Bishop Miles]

This was Bishop’s fourth beer since arriving to the Stony Ridge Bar. Bishop couldn’t help the feeling that he stuck out in the bar. Everyone was either in a flannels, vest, and jeans and of course cowboy boots, but a job was a job. This job happened to take Bishop to the out skirts of Arizona, in a small town that was so generic that bishop didn’t bother to remember its name. The job was supposed to be somewhat simple; a cleanup job really. A Hunter came by Blue’s, the Club Bishop help run and own. Talking about a job he thought he settled back in Arizona, but he got some news that whatever he thought he killed had got away, or healed and started up shop again in town. You know, making people violently ill, fevers, throwing up stuff that might get signaled as flu or bug that they caught. Until the person died, again nothing big, but the condition they were in when they died was what caught this particular hunter’s attention. All the victims were found in a mummified type of state with all their fluids, and such removed. The Hunter explained that he start investigating, the victims’ families, close friends, getting readings the whole nine yards. He got some readings on his EMF, thought it was some high power ghost, but then stumbled across a low level Pagan Egyptian Goddess, and axed it…. literally. Than packed up and left, but before the Hunter could get off Scott free. He ran into some trouble with the law, and had to lay low for a bit. This was the reason why he came to Blue’s obviously to lay low and the same reason why Bishop was here finishing the job. He had some spare time on his hands, and hadn’t caught up on his numbers of Hunts since he got back from Harvard.


Bishop baby sipped the last of his beer letting it hit the back of his throat, without even tasting the brew. The waitress who was making her rounds, the same ones you typical see in movies with the hair did up from the seventies, outrageous red dye and all came up, and replaced his empty one with full one. He nodded his thanks, and the waitress retreated back. Bishop looked down to study the case fill that the previous Hunter let him barrow and his own notes he took from the day. The reason why he picked this Bar instead of his Motel was because the dead Pagan Goddess used this as her watering hole. He started to read his notes that he took from the Pagan Goddess friends, and exes, and it came up in a dead end. He thought maybe the blasted thing might have reached out to someone, but no one said anything about getting a night visit from the dead. Bishop’s next stop was to visit some of the Victims folks to see if the other Hunter might have missed something.

Bishop picked up the file in one hand, and the other went for his beer, but at that exact moment, Bishop felt an ungodly sneeze come on, and his hand jerked violent as the sneeze rocked his body, and the beer spilled over to the side with the bottle following right after shattering to the floor. Bishop cursed under his breath. Closing his fills for on lookers not to take a peek he bent down and announcing to no one in general, “He got it.” Bishop was careful at picking up the pieces of the broken brown bottle, and noticed something on one of the shattered remains. There was something very familiar about the markings on this piece. Bishop picked it up and examined it closer in the light. He didn’t know if it was because it being a long night, the beers, him wanting to see something that’s not there or a combination of both, but Bishop couldn’t help shake that these markings meant something. That’s when the Waitress appeared again very eagerly wanting to take the pieces, telling Bishop to sit and she’ll give him a new beer, with an all too eager smile. Bishop only agreed after gathering a few pieces for closer examination when Bishop got back to his Motel, and was a little more sober. Until than Bishop picked himself up and plopted himself in his chair waiting for his next beer.

[Máire]

[maire]By the time Bishop straightened back up in his chair there was someone sitting in the seat beside him. A young woman with dark hair who had a glass of scotch in one hand and his file in the other, flipping through the photos and notes with idle interest. "You're going to want to work fast, boyo. Those sniffles you've got are going to get a whole lot worse in a hurry unless you get this dealt with. Unut's always been a vengeful little cunt."

She took a swallow of her drink and looked Bishop over. In all honesty, not only did she not look like she fit in a shitkicker bar in Arizona, dressed as she was in skin-tight jeans (at least that part was right) with that artfully ragged sweater that looked like it was always about to fall off without ever quite doing it. That level of attractive disarray takes money to pull off, sure as anything that sweater was cashmere, the scuffed sneakers some high-end brand, she didn't necessarily look old enough to drink. Or even vote.

The woman looked at Bishop, all huge wrong-colored eyes and bland interest. "So have you figured out where she's hiding yet? A little beheading isn't going to fix her. She wasn't much of a goddess, but she was still a goddess. That never entirely goes away." Even if every once in a while Maire sort of wished it would. That level of awareness is painful, and just because you get used to it that doesn't mean you always like it.[/maire]

[Bishop Miles]

Bishop didn’t jump when his guest seemed to appear out of now where. No his training won’t allow it, but all the training didn’t stop the few small beads of sweat from rolling down his neck, or the small bubble of panic that rose from somewhere deep down and took Bishop for a ride for a few moments. Is this the Goddess? She has a new body? Can’t shot her in the face here? Wait who’s Unut? Bishop took in what she said, along with the female’s looks down from her outfit, to her bewitching eyes, her out of this world beauty, and the feeling in his gut that shouted otherworldly about her. Bishop sat only for a few minutes silent pondering how much could he say freely in front of the stranger. For all he knew was this was another Creature that just wanted this Unut out of the way to call this area her territory, but as Bishop thought he felt a bit woozy, and another sneeze came along in Bishop’s monkey suit sleeve instead of the table. Whatever Bishop was going to do he needed to do it soon like the women said his “sniffles” were getting worse. “Haven’t figured out her hiding hole yet, but I’ve figured out how she’s giving out the house warming gifts,” Bishop picked up his bottle of beer and made it dance in-between his index, and middle finger. Bishop placed the bottle down, and his eyes scanned the people in the bar. There were at least fifteen people in all in the bar, beside Bishop and the women sitting at his table. Twelve of them customers that seem to come here quite often the way they interacted with one another. Two Waiters both females in their mid-forties, maybe early fifties, and last was the bartender himself. Mid forties, beer belly, bald, and a chain smoker by the looks of the ash tray that was filled to the brim with dead cigarettes buds that he carried with him everywhere he goes. During his look about the bar; Bishop couldn’t help but feel an uneasy feeling coming from the way some of the customers, even the waiters, and Bartender shot toward his table. Yeah the two looked like an odd pair together maybe a junkie and her parole officer out for drinks, maybe. But it certainly won’t give them the looks that they were receiving now, especially him. “This Goddess, Unut she won’t might so happen have a few followers on her side would she?” Bishop asked between his lips. He had turned more to the female at his side, to block the view of people at the bar from reading his lips. His eyes meet Marie’s, and he smiled happily like she made a joke. While his eyes shifted from hers’ to the bar, hopefully dropping enough hints that they might be in a world of trouble in a few minutes.

[Máire]

[maire]"Oh, probably." The girl just sounded weary, unimpressed. "She always did like to spread it around. Why bother attracting worshippers by actually shaping an improving the world when you can give 'em a tumble instead? Takes fifteen minutes and way less effort." She drained her scotch, seemingly unworried about any magic that might be in it or the glass, and then looked over at Bishop. "Name's Maire. Try not to hurt them, if you can help it? They're idiots, but they're still just people."

And then a meaty hand with grease worked in to the creases of the knuckles hit her shoulder. "You got a big mouth, you know that?"

She rolled her eyes and then looked up at the guy who was making a solid attempt to squish her down to half-height in her chair. "It's been mentioned. And you wouldn't be the first one who's decided he was the right guy to shut it for me. Turns out, they were all wrong. I'm thinking you will be too."

And while the guy was still working through that in his head, digging for the insult he had to figure was there, she punched him in the nuts.[/maire]

[Bishop Miles]

Bishop actually cracked a real smile at the poor excuse of a joke on the once thought dead goddess. He watched her drain her glass clean, and introduced herself as Marie telling him to take it a bit easy on the folks in the bar. “Ah come on that just makes my job easier.” Bishop words were lost by the sound of flesh meeting flesh. Bishop would have thought Marie would yell out in pain from how much force, and power was put behind that punch. No Bishop knew she would, and her shoulder may be dislocated. However Marie came out unscratched just reassuring his thoughts that she was something more than a dark haired beauty.


Whatever did become of the guy that stroke Marie, Bishop never found out what. All he heard was a high pitch yelp come from her area. It didn’t matter for right now. Bishop was pretty sure Marie could hold her own, after watching her take a hit from the big guy. He was having his own mini problems. Bishop had already smashed his bottle of still filled liquor over some yahoo that came at him with arms stretched out wide like he was going to tackle Bishop. Next was a quick jab, cross combo and the dude was down for now, but he was quickly replaced by another, and just like that. A full bar brawl erupted, with Bishop and Marie stuck in the middle. Bishop had already removed his jacket and tie, and was using the same tie to warp another country bumpkin’s arm, and neck coking him out. The bumpkin threw a hook to Bishop’s face; which was something Bishop was expecting. Nine times out of ten with people who doesn’t know how to fight or even throw a decent punch. Always throws haymakers, never thinking about punching straight. From getting from A, the fist, to B, Bishop face. Until regular folks learned not to do what is shown in movies. Bishop was in the better end of most fights, most. This one didn’t seem like he was going to have the same edge. Whatever type of magic that was working in Bishop’s system was working fast to compromise him.


Bishop reaction time was becoming so bad that he could only make swift movements after they laid a hand on Bishop. Sometimes not the best way to fight Bishop would be the first to admit, but it was something. At least he could counter, and put the person in a lock joint, and maybe dislocate something before another took the first attackers place.

[Máire]

[maire]Maire had a rather unique fighting style, noticably weird to anybody who knew what they were looking at. She was tall and slim, fragile-looking, but she also possessed a strength that was straight-up unnatural. There simply wasn't enough mass on her frame to allow her to swing people around the way she was doing. At one point she picked up a guy who had to mass two-eighty and tossed him at the wall like she was pitching aside an empty beer bottle.

Eventually she seemed to settle on a combination of a full whiskey bottle in one hand and the other hand barefisted, she was concentrating on breaking noses and knocking the wind out of people, best the scramble of the melee allowed. She really did prefer not to hurt people if she didn't have to, they were just humans and it wasn't their fault.

Two against twelve sounds like impossible odds, but actually it didn't take all that long before the last man was down, either unconscious or too busy groaning and gagging on their own blood to be hitting anybody else. And when it was done Maire set down her whiskey bottle and wiped her hands clean on a bar towel. "So," she smiled at Bishop. "That was invigorating. Are we ready to move on?"[/maire]

[Bishop Miles]

When the last one went down so did Bishop. Right into a wooden chair that whined its protest of being sat on, but held none the less. He was tired, no beyond that Bishop was sick, and it wasn’t getting better. Half way through the brawl, Bishop had to slow down with throwing people over his shoulder, or moving too fast. Otherwise the room went spinning, and several times he sneezed his way right into a punch, or beer bottle. Bishop rolled his neck, feeling and hearing the cracks and feeling slightly better than before. “Do you know where we should go next? Other than this little shit hole I” Bishop fell quite as a thought crossed his mind as one of the few that weren’t unconscious got to his knees but fell soon after from the strain. Bishop stood up feeling nauseas, and unstable. He waited for it to pass, no throwing up, no need to sit back down. Good. He thought. Taking in a deep, closing his eyes focusing on putting enough steel and focus in his voice and demeanor. He let it all out, with a face of a very pissed off teacher his eyes set on the raising worshiper. Bishop marcher over to the down red neck , who’s hands and knees were finally under him without buckling. Bishop kicked the worshiper’s hand from under him and down he went. Bishop used the same foot to turn him over. “Listen. I’m not going to waste words on you. Not even a bullet. I’m just going to ask you one question and if you don’t answer me. I’m going to hand you over to my friend over there and let her eat you. Do you understand?” Bishop threw his thumb over to Marie who was standing by. Wither Marie would or could eat the man Bishop didn’t know the first, but the red neck worshiper didn’t either and that was what Bishop was hoping on. Bishop watched the down brawlers eyes grow wide when he looked at Marie. Whatever she was doing behind Bishop’s back put a little backing into his words, because the down brawler just nodded his head up and down rapidly. “Where is Unut, where is your goddess that you worship.” Bishop words were cold, and steel rung deep with every word spoke. The man muttered an address that Bishop put into his smart phone to make sure the information was legit, which it was. Turns out it was even close by. With a nod toward Marie toward the bar door; Bishop hurried at a fast pace to the bar door, before anyone else could get up. “So do you want to tell me what you are, and how you can throw around grown ass man like ragdolls, and why the hell are you helping me?” Bishop ranted each question. His eyes hard as steel trained on Marie, not for a second falling for the fragile girl act after the show she just put on.

[Máire]

[maire]"I told you. My name's Máire." She pronounced it in the old way, my-EER rather than the modern MOY-reh. "I'm helping you because Unut's a pain in the ass and because I kind of like hunters. And I can toss 'grown-ass men like ragdolls' because I'm not exactly human. I'm something a bit older than that, I've been around since humanity was still in beta testing. That said, I'm not going to eat your face or anything and you seriously need the help. So are you up to going and facing down this bitch or not?" If they waited until morning she could help a bit, but Maire's experience with hunters was that they were impatient little creatures, always wanting to rush off and find the next round of violence.

She smiled at Bishop, somewhere between challenge and worry. "You really don't have a whole lot of time, sweetie. You're going to want to either find her immediately or wait it out until after dawn when her power weakens and we can maybe do something for that cough. Either way, twelve hours is about the window before you're good for nothing but drinking NyQuil/Gatorade cocktails and waiting for Cranky McSluttypants to come finish you off."[/maire]

[Bishop Miles]

Bishop kept his best poke face up while Maire gave him his answer, without truly answering it. She was being pretty vague. Which popped up more questions that Bishop wanted to ask her, but doubted she would answer, or would just ball face lie about it. Then to top it all off, Bishop might not be able to tell if she was in fact lying. From spending with Abiel Bishop knew that creatures that were here when men was still using bows and arrows to kill one another. They can play a mean O.J. Simpson, and get away with it too. Bishop didn’t like it and it was written over his face, but he couldn’t fight Marie’s logic about resting before the big show down with Unut. It sounded pretty damn good right now at this moment, and the way Bishop was feeling he wasn’t up for a brawl with a Goddess. Besides the most important fact that Bishop still didn’t know how to kill the bitch, besides knowing that cutting off her head doesn’t work. Bishop checked his pockets for his keys to his bike, and fished them out of there left pocket hidey hole. “We’re going to have to make a quick trip to Walgreens or a close by drug store than hole up in my hotel,” Bishop ran down the game plan, as he tossed the keys to Maire. Bishop was in no condition to drive and just hoped Maire knew how to ride a motorcycle. “Unless you got a better place in mind to hold up for the night?”

[Máire]

[maire]"Your hotel's fine," she said cheerfully, either ignoring or pretending to ignore the waves of mistrust that all but baked off the hunter. "I'll follow you over, I'm not leaving my car here to get the hubcaps stolen."

She reached over and touched her fingertips to Bishop's forehead, then shook her head and said, "Fluids and Tylenol, kid. I'll be able to help you out a bit once the sun's up. Do you have your bronze sickle and fig ash?"

People were starting to come around, it seemed like it was time to get out, so Maire drained her glass and stood up, glancing around the bar. "She'll know we're coming. But in sunlight we'll have the advantage. C'mon, let' blow this joint."[/maire]

[Bishop Miles]

“Damn” Bishop muttered after catching his keys back. The reason why he gave Maire his keys was because he didn’t know if he could ride his bike without crashing in this state. He never thought the seemly normal looking women with otherworldly eyes would have driven a car. Especially the way she seemed to pop out of thin air back in the club. The matter on if Bishop was going to drive or not was settled, just like Maire he wasn’t going to leave his baby here. Bishop followed Maire’s fingers to his forehead where she tapped, he hated to be called, “kid” but dropped it since the two were on the same page, and that page was killing this Goddess bitch. “Not on hand, no, but I can get it delivered to use by ten tomorrow”. Bishop fished out his phone from his inside jacket pocket and dialed Abiel’s number. He answered on the three rings, the club music could be heard dying out in the background. So Bishop knew he just went somewhere a little bit quieter for him to hear. Bishop gave him the quick run down and what he needed and gave Abiel his motel’s address. He wanted to ask if Abiel could look up on anything on a Maire, if that was her real name, but decided he won’t be able to ask the request unknown to Maire. When he was done on the phone, and he made sure Abiel had written down what he needed, and where to send it. Bishop put his phone away, after checking the time. His eyes came to rest on Maire. While his hands found his helmet. He pondered how the hell he got himself in this situation, but decided it didn’t matter. He would get the job done, and with a little help as well. “Stay close,” Bishop called out to Maire slipping on his helmet. He threw one leg over the bike and kicked the stand back in place, and started the engine. He felt the metal beast come to life under him, beckoning to be ridden. Bishop waited for Maire to get into her car, than he headed off on the main road heading straight for a Walgreens than his motel. The last nine hours were terrible full of sneezing, coughing, shriving, heat flashes, and worse. If ever was there a greater reason to hunt a Hunter, Bishop just gave Maire one last night. This was why Bishop hated to get sick, he turns into one of the biggest babies, and depended on others. But now that was over the illness or magic had worn off just like Maire said it would. He owes her one for that one, hell he owed her a lot, and other thing being sick he hated owing people. For the simple fact that they can easily call it in on almost anything, and Bishop would have to fulfill it; it was during these rare moments Bishop hated to be the good guy. The items that Bishop requested for had come in a few minutes ago, Bishop had a call from his motel’s phone from the front desk. Where his “package” was waiting for him. “Ready to roll out?” Bishop asked his companion by the door. Bishop grabbed his leather jacket and slipped it on over his black t-shirt. He didn’t get back into his suit since they were ruined by snot, and other weird mucus.

[Máire]

[maire]Máire rode out the night with a combination of solicitous care, light mockery, and ducking outside for a smoke any time there was too much mucus or complaining. And then an hour after dawn she bundled Bishop up and led him outside, ignoring his complaints as she stood him in the middle of the brightest patch of sunlight she could find (it happened to be the middle of the parking lot) and then stepped forward and started groping him.

Well, not quite. Sort of groping. She ran her hands over his face and the top of his head, down his chest, around to his back. Her palms were very warm, and everywhere she touched it seemed that the warmth lingered, easing the aches and stuffiness, the fuzzy-headed feeling, the strangling choke of lungs filled with phlegm. When she pulled back her eyes were glowing a deeply unnatural pale purple but Bishop's cold was, if not cured surely eased. "All right. Now maybe you won't keel over before we can get where we're going."

"Speaking of which," a casual grin, just as though she hadn't just been doing impossible things in a Super 8 parking lot, "do you know where we're going?"[/maire]