Siege of Denver [ALERT]

The streets of Denver were filled with the sounds of gunshots, police sirens and screams, both human and definitively not. Ghouls were roaming the streets, hording upon fleeing civilians and feasting upon their flesh. Lycanthropes skulked the streets, dragging people into the shadows for the purpose of food or sadism alike. Vampires of the local cabals were using this as a chance to  both loot upon the city's wealthy and, of course, stock upon blood.  One couldn't walk down the street without seeing at least a few bodies limp, completely drained of blood. Yet despite that, worst of all was something else entirely. The vile cryptids native to the united states. Wendigos ran rampant about the city with less fear than the werewolves, brazenly attacking anything in sight, ravenously attacking anything that just might contain survivors in order to sate their unending hunger. Familiar faces casually walked the street, attempting to appear scared or confused. Yet their twitchy movements and elongated limbs told a different story, one stating the nature of vile imitation, the one imitated having been long consumed. Even the upper floors of skyscrapers were not safe. Shattered windows and broken doors were more common than functional ones. Boarded windows were present as well, but provided little comfort to those past them. Denver had fallen to chaos.

Atop the tower of a local news company, a door flew open. A shadowed figure staggered through, his bronze colored mask glinting in the light, indents of a claw mark visible upon it. A Remington 870 pump action shotgun in hand, he spins about. Out of the dim light of the stairwell, a black furred blur bolted up the stairs, it's toothy deer skulled maw opening wide. A light flashed in the darkness atop the skyscraper as the buckshot fired. The slug hits the beast center mass, an extra pulse of supernatural kinetic energy blasting outwards. It's sent flying backwards through the door, tumbling down the stairs with a ear piercing wail. Mauled mask slams the door shut before pulling a welding torch out of his satchel. Sparks fly as he proceeds to weld metal to metal, sealing it shut. With that done, he takes the lunchbox that's slung over his shoulder with a leather strap in hand as he hurries over to the radio antenna. An irritated grunt leaves him upon finding the access panel sealed shut. he pulls a playing card with an odd runed carved upon it out of his coat and slides it in between the panel and it's door. He then snaps his fingers, and green energy pulses outward as the access panel pops open.

He opens the lunch box, which is full of electronics, circuits, and a pair of headphones with a mic, which he puts upon his head. He then plugs a cord from the lunch box into the access panel. State wide, no matter the broadcast, would find itself overtaken. Not that any of the major news channels were left within the city to broadcast at this point. Mauled mask wagered a more sentient collective, like the vampire cabals, had something to do with that. Across the entire city, from any device that could, his voice rung out.

"Denver. This is Artificer. Or Mauled Mask. Some of you may have heard of me, most of you have not. But introducing myself right now is more politeness than anything. Who I am doesn't mean a lick of a shit right now. We are, for lack of a better term, under siege. By forces beyond comprehension. To those of you still breathing, still human...well. Human isn't a requirement, but to those of you not currently feasting on civilian flesh. Listen. What I'm going to tell you can't guarantee your survival, but it might help. First, there's the obvious things. Board your windows, lock your doors, then put furniture in front of your doors. hell, put furniture in front of your windows too, if you can. Seriously, keep those windows covered. Doesn't matter if you're on the bottom floor or top floor. The things currently plaguing our state are not hindered by verticality. Next. Holy symbols, Christian, Pagan or otherwise. Keep them on hand if you have them. Hang them from ceilings, nail them to walls near entrances. Make sure they're within sight. Pour salt near every possible entrance of your house. Get holy water if you have it. Guns will work if need be. Buckshot will serve you best against most things that are hunting us. Get it if you can. This last one is a bit unorthodox, but it's more useful than you think. Cover yourself in something stinky, chemical esque if possible. Motor oil, olive oil, basic dish soap. Do whatever you can to remove their ability to differentiate you from the natural smell of the city itself. Half the time if they don't smell anything, they won't even look." There's a pause as screeching can be heard over the microphone. Panicked breaths and gunfire follow. After a few moments, he continues speaking. "I need to move faster...Uhhh...what's next. Oh. Yeah. Them. I refuse to speak their name aloud. If you've already guessed what I'm about to say, don't you speak it aloud either. That part isn't a myth. If you see familiar faces on the street, look for twitchy movements, elongated limbs, glassy eyes, and the teeth. They won't be right. Nothing about them will be right no matter how familiar the face. You will get a gut feeling. Don't ignore it. If you've a gun. open fire then and there. if not... Run. Don't listen to their words.

Those of you who are able to or lack a place to hide, if you can, make your way to Meow Wolf. The art exhibit. The police and I have set up a defensive there and we're holding the line for the moment. It's safe inside.

Lastly, but most essentially, consider this a call to all heroes who hear this. From what I can tell, Denver is getting the worst of it. As if someone or something knows it's the capital. To those of you who can get here and can spare the manpower from whatever situation you're undoubtedly handling, please. I'm working on my magic runes, a few shotgun shells, and a handful of cops. I'm putting my all into this but I'm not sure how long I can hold out." A deep, shaky sigh can be heard over the mic. "I have to get back to the exhibit. Make sure none of the police let any of them slip past them. This is Mauled Mask Signing off. Before I go, to those of you preying upon our streets that are sentient enough to understand a radio broadcast. Stay away from the exhibit. Or hell will feel pleasant when you get there after what I do. Denver, Good night. And good luck." There's a click, and then simply static.

At Meowwolf

Ten cops or so stood between the haunted streets and the people in the building beyond them. The large glass windows of the lobby had long been shattered. Bodies littered the ground outside, both law enforcement and beast alike. The police were behind various forms of makeshift cover. Tipped over tables, the lobby main desk, and oddly enough, a classic dodge charger sitting right there in the lobby, it's trunk opened to reveal an arsenal of silver bullets, crosses, dream catchers and whatever other supernatural deterrent one could think of. The cops seemed to have armed themselves with the contents of said trunk, guns loaded with silver and crosses about their necks. Crosses and Dream Catchers were also hanging from the frames of the shattered windows to serve as best of a deterrent as they could. Just a bit beyond the windows, strange runes had been drawn with chalk, causing foggy green barriers to appear in front of the building as yet another line of defense. All the other entrances to Meowwolf, back entrances and the like had been completely welded shut. Save for a few chosen fire exits, which were guarded by the few other officers present in the building.

The police looked tired, ragged. But they were hopeful. The advice and tools supplied by the weird masked fellow had worked. He'd left after offering them, saying he was going to get reinforcements if he could. Best they could do was hold out and pray that help was on the way while they held the line. Thus, gunfire rang through the lobby of Meowwolf as another wave of beasts attempted to batter the defenses.

---------------------------------------------------------------OOC Info--------------------------------------------------------------

Possible Objectives
- Find and escort civilians to Meow Wolf
- Stay at Meow Wolf and Reinforce it's defenses
- Provide medical aid to the injured at Meow Wolf or anywhere else
- Cleanse the streets of these vile beasts
- Reestablish proper radio communications
- Speak with Artificer at Meow Wolf to find out more on the situation. (He will arrive after the first round of posts)
- Find Ammunition and other supplies for the police guarding Meow Wolf
- Patrol the inside of Meow Wolf to make sure none of them managed to infiltrate.

Other info:https://meowwolf.com
It's a real exhibit! Feel free to familiarize yourself.

”We are passing over Denver now, looks like hell down there.”

”Well, that’s what we made him for, open the hatch.”

High above the city, a C-130s back ramp opened, revealing the almost empty interior, save for one figure.  

“Mission confirmed, all systems onlines.” Brigade stepped to the edge of the ramp, looking out at the skyline and buildings below as they flew by. “Awaiting Permission to engage.”

”Permission granted, give them hell, soldier.”

With the confirmation, Brigade stepped off the ramp, dropping down to the city below. When he reached the lowest altitude he could, a parachute automatically released from his back, slowing his descent enough to not cause damage as he landed.  

It didn’t take long for the creatures to spot him, he didn’t exactly hide. They quickly surrounded the soldier, several Lycans snarled as they moved into a low crouch, preparing to make their moves.  

“Multiple targets confirmed, Lycanthrope...” Brigade pulled two rather large daggers from out of his forearms, the silver edge of the blades glinting in the street light. “Engage.” He rushed forward with incredible speed, fast enough to even catch one of the poor beasts off guard, as one of the knives found itself embedded into its chest. Brigade then lifted the rather large beast into the air, as if it weighed nothing, before throwing the now corpse at an second Lycan, who was trying to rush him on his left.  

Seeing this, the entire pack then decided to rush in, trying to outnumber the soldier.  

One by one, Brigade carved through them, the silver knives stabbing and slashing at anything that dared to come close. Limbs went flying, whole bodies even, until there was only one left, who clearly was smart enough to see it was outmatched, and decided to run.  

It didn’t get far, as a flying knife found itself stuck in the back of its skull, and it dropped lifeless to the ground.  

Brigade walked over slowly, grabbing the blade out of the monsters skull, as he looked around the streets, scanning for a new target.

Cassidy was enthralled by the art on display. It was surreal, trippy and felt damn near alien. She felt like she was travelling through another world. It was a genuinely impressive bit of artistry and engineering. Something that she found briefly fascinating… and something her brutish roommate for headspace found incredibly tedious. ’Art in my time was designed for the express purpose of making a story come to life. Where is the story in this?’ She sighed mentally.

The Celtic god was not pleased to be leaving Ireland for the first time in… well one could only guess. But Cassidy needed this vacation. The CAFC had been pestering them with minor infractions of unregistered metahumans, and petty crimes. Not to mention how many rules Nuada seemed to enjoy flagrantly breaking. He of course just loved to retreat into their mental headspace and allow her to take the brunt of the abuse from their superiors. He claimed it was because “A king shouldn’t have to listen to the objections of peasants” or complain about being unfairly prosecuted for his highest of statuses.

Cassidy dealt with the internal intruder the way she always had. Compromise. ”Nuada, this is my time. I am enjoying myself and I don’t want to leave. But, I will let you pick where we go for dinner?” She felt her divine counterparts agreement rather than heard it.

He had quieted up after that. The Meow Wolf exhibition was her favorite spot in Denver so far. But there was joy so much time in the day and she felt her body melt away as Nuada took control for his half of the day. She knew it was coming soon, and begrudgingly accepted the gods rude transformation.

When they stepped outside he sun was bright in the sky. A horn sounded that could have shook the world, and the God shook his head. For a moment he was confused. He hasn’t heard a sound like that since… ”Mortals! Retreat indoors at once!” The war god bellowed. He drew a massive silver blade and ignored his mortal hosts instinctual panic. The Long Night was here and with it, the humans would feel the fear of the deer being pursued by a hunter. No doubt in his mind remained that what they faced…

Would be a hell of a lot of fun to destroy.

It had only been a couple of hours since the war god began fighting off the siege… but he was slowing slightly. He was old and out of practice. He was better than any normal man no doubt, but these last months of being forced to face enemies had dulled his senses. He felt the rage bubble up inside him as he took the head from the shoulders of a doppelgänger pretending to be a security guard to get into the hold hastily constructed by a hero. Nuada had moved on duringits establishment, but when he heard the call for aid he couldn’t turn it down. Most frustrating enemy to face had to be the gaunt forms of the cannobalisric monsters that gained power when you spoke of them. Especially since the mortals refused to refer to them as he had now chosen to. The Other as he called them had managed a deep gash on his leg before he took it down with a mighty swing from his blade.

The man wolf who stood before him seemed to find that he was prey that would be simply too much trouble. It attempted to hound away before Nuada simply jumped to catch it in its retreat and put the silver between its shoulder blades. None would escape his wrath. Then he stumbled. He glanced at his leg and realized it wasn’t healing properly. Dammit. He ripped off a piece of tartan and bound the wound. A tactical retreat was necessary though he was loath to admit it. He entered the art exhibit so he could stand in defense of the mortals cowering inside.

”Fear not, mortals. I am Nuada of the silver hand, kind of the Tuatha De Dannan. I am here to defend you this long night. No monster shall enter these premises without my notice.” The lights went out momentarily and a brief scream.

When the lights came back on, one of the mortals was slain and on the wall behind her was a bloody smiley face dripping it’s crimson grin. Her body was torn in two, but otherwise untouched. In fact, it almost seemed as though the savaged body wasn’t torn by claws or brute strength alone… but cut with a wicked blade. He felt the glare from the shadows but couldn’t see anything except a quick flash of yellow plastic.

Something or someone had broken in while he wasn’t paying attention…and now he was being hunted as well. The siege walls had broken. Now he had to slay the intruders. This was truly going to be a long night.

Like a geyser of red, blood painted the wall as a vampire's head was taken clean off the shoulders. Struck from ambush, the pale thing slumped as the umber-skinned "savage" looked down at the body, her claws coated in blood. Another creature came into the alley - this one a lycanthrope. With all the practiced grace of a feline, the woman slipped past the beast, raking her claws across the belly of the beast.

The only sign that the werewolf had come anywhere close to hitting her was the sound of tearing fabric, and her T-shirt being torn free of her body. Nawi looked down at herself as the werewolf's guts began to gush out of the long lacerations she left on the belly. Honestly, she wasn't sure why she bothered wearing anything other than lingerie when the scuffles most often ended with her losing articles of clothing. Perhaps it was because she was trying to adapt to Western customs.

Looking at the werewolf that was rapidly bleeding out, Nawi figured that its hide would make for very tough leather. As soon as the beast stopped moving, she began to use her claws to skin the beast - she wouldn't have time to cure and tan the hide at this moment, of course, but it would be helpful to get it done.

Her slit pupils dilated as she looked into the dark corner of the alley, a young lady - purely human - was stuck between relief and fear. Relief that neither the vampire nor the werewolf had managed to touch her, but fearful of Nawi -  as drenched in blood as she was, Nawi couldn't really fault her. Still, they needed to find sanctuary.

"Are you injured?" Nawi asked, approaching the woman, her tail swaying behind  her as she carried the werewolf's hide on her shoulders.

"Road rash...maybe a sprained ankle. Thank you," the woman said.

Nawi's keen hearing picked up the footfalls of something large heading their way. Unfortunately, since Denver's streets were littered with literal crap, she couldn't make out what it smelled like unless it was directly in front of her.

"Something large is coming," Nawi warned. "We need to move - can you walk?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Run?" Nawi asked.

"Maybe...but I don't want to risk trying on this ankle," the woman said. "I'm armed, but...this .38 did nothing against that...vampire."

"Ugh..." Nawi sighed, thankful that she was covered by the blood of a werewolf. "Put on this werewolf hide - it's bloody, but it should at least cover your natural scent. Then, get on my back. I'll carry you to Meow Wolf..."

Go to Denver, nothing ever happens in Denver...

That's what they had told her before Melody had signed on for an interview and brief weekend getaway. Her agent had told her that she wouldn't have to worry about villainy or any form of heroing. Now, as she awoke in the quiet hotel room she had managed to rent out it was to the sound of close-but not that close shouting, gunshots, screaming, growling, and everything else that came with city-wide panic. There was just no end to the random terrors that this world had to endure and for some reason they had a habit of making their move whenever Melody tried to take any semblance of a break.

She sat on the side of the bed for a moment taking a breath and judging how much energy she had actually saved up for the trip. She never talked about it, but she could feel it coursing through her. It was like seeing the little gas ticker in your car...she could measure exactly how much she had stored up and what was ready to be used and what still being converted what she could output.

There was plenty, she would fine. Not that it would stop her otherwise but it was a comfort to know that she might at least be able to turn the tides in all of this. She only hoped that there were other heroes in the streets offering their aid. It was a pain to save an entire city by yourself. At the end of the day she supposed it didn't matter. One way or another, moments later after a quick change, she was on the street, eyes closed and head tilted up ever so slightly.

The ears atop her head, which weren't actually ears (it was energy and hair which sounded more gross than it was), flicked as they picked up the noise on the street. It was loud and painful for the first few moments, though soon she could drown it out. Drowning it out was quite the right phrase though...processing it...estimating and calculating, trying to pinpoint the epicenter of it. Where the largest group of people were. Where the panic seemed the loudest...

One moment...two...three...there.

She opened her eyes right as a ghoul made a lunge at her. She could see its torn clothing, torn flesh beneath it, the white teeth stained with blood, eyes sunken and hollow. Her fist jolted forward, she could feel the flesh squish against her hand, bones break, energy leaving her as it surged from her to the undead. The undead flew backward and slammed into a nearby building, rubble crashing around it.

Give a girl a break...

She shook off her fist for a moment, not that it hurt, but it was a habit at this point. Her ears flicked again, picking up a new sound. A voice sounded over the streets, rallying the people to stay safe...telling them where to go...Meow...Wolf? Mauled Mask?

She suppressed a snort at those.

But at the very least she knew where to send people. She didn't quite know where that was but she had a feeling she'd soon find out. In the meantime, she needed to get to the street where she had heard a mass of cries and screams. She knelt down for a moment, allowing energy to build up in her legs before hopping up high into the air towards the hard wall of a skyscraper, feet landing firmly against it. She bounded off that wall to another building and another, until she was moving down the street, making her way along to where she was sure she'd find even more of these monsters.

"Bonjour! Je m'appelle Monte ! M-O-N-T-E. Pouvez-vous me dire où se trouve la basilique?" She said, practically shouting the words at the man.  Montessa glanced down at her phone, then back up at the large, blonde fellow that she was holding at bay.  The tip of her cane was held straight out, pressing against the corpse gray flesh of the dead man. His skin looked shrunken and shriveled, with a shock of bottle-blonde hair styled up with a product that had since lost its gusto.

"Oi!  You aren't doing the reputation of your city any favors, friendo.  I know you're committed to the art or whatever but it will literally take three seconds.  Go 'Hats Off' or whatever."  Monte said, giving the blonde-and-gray surfer boy a couple of pokes with her cane.  The 'zombie', rudely uncaring about both his civic pride or her opinion of it.  To be honest, she felt he was overselling it, but what could you do?

It was rather cute, oddly  Despite her obvious disinterest in either the event or his attempts to sweep her up, he was persistent.  Yet, he didn't get handsy or invade her personal space or autonomy.  He kept on bumping into her cane like a doofus, trying to show her how fun it was.

Montessa Maeda-Moretti, known more commonly as the Mountebank, was having a bit of a head-scratcher.  Despite that she knew for certain the people in this city spoke both French and English, no one was willing to point her to where she needed to go.

That had been her own fault, really.  When a few dozen of them had tried to get her to be one of their 'victims', she had rolled her eyes and Lied --

"Just Ignore Me, I'm Not Here."  

And they left her alone.  Leaving her with the oddly cute zombie surfer boy. And while he seemed 'dead' set (ha!) on getting her phone number, she really wanted to see what he looked like without all the facial rot.  Looks aren't everything, but you wanted to see how someone looked with their lips attached, you know?

Monte knew that 'zombie-walks' were all the rage in some places.  You know, dress up as a dead guy and freak the mundanes a little. Have a little parade and see if you could get a part in the next bad horror movie they put out.  She could respect the game, of course.  Frankly if circumstances were different, she'd dump a bucket of fake blood over her head and get right on zombie-walking with them.  Do her best damsel scream and cry out for Arty to save her!

"Fucking Montreal," she said with a sigh.  She gave lover-boy another jab with her cane, pushing him back a few feet as she looked at her phone again.  She had put in the right zip code into her map app.  While the city line looked a bit different from this angle, she was certain the Notre-Dame Basilica should be right there.

She was about to just give up and join the Walk, when she noticed she hadn't taken the phone off of 'Airplane Mode'.  Monte was terrible with technology.  Deciding to just give in and do it the easy way, Montessa tapped the device with her cane and commanded it to unlock as if it were some mysterious, arcane tome.

The infernal contraption began to blare an unholy wail as if all the trumpets of Hell had sounded the End of Days.
--

WEA Alert
PUBLIC SAFETY EMERGENCY
Denver Metro Area

This is an emergency alert issued by the Denver Emergency Management Agency. A public safety emergency is underway in Denver due to a significant rise in incidents of unpredictable and potentially dangerous behavior among individuals.

Immediate Action Required:

• Take Shelter: Move to a secure location immediately. Stay indoors and away from public areas.
  
• Exercise Caution: Avoid contact with individuals exhibiting unusual behavior.
  
• Stay Updated: Monitor local news and official channels for updates and instructions.
  
• Report Concerns: Contact local authorities to report any suspicious activity or threats.
  

This message will be updated as new information becomes available.

This is an urgent message from the Denver Emergency Management Agency.
–

"Oh, this is Denver!" Monte laughed, her cane momentarily suspended in midair as she slapped her forehead.  She showed her phone screen to the blonde corpse. "Wow, you must think I'm a bitch and a half."  She laughed again, plucked her cane from the air, and tapped her phone.  "Still, things can't be that bad if you all didn't cancel your... Zombie... LARP..."

The phone began to bark out the repeating message.

"...under siege. By forces beyond comprehension. To those of you still breathing, still human...well. Human isn't a requirement, but to those of you not currently feasting on civilian flesh. Listen. What I'm going to tell you..."

With a sigh, Monte lowered her smartphone.  She looked up at her conversational partner, and murmured.  "So I guess you didn't want to eat me out, you wanted to eat me out.  Right."  She shook her head, "And of course Arty would be in Denver of all places.  What can you even do in Denver?"

She lifted her cane and with a distracted, but perfect swish of her cane, dashed out the zombie's brains. The Lie faded as she did something that couldn't be ignored. "Huh, Meow Wolf…"  she said, typing in a search query after hearing the place on Arty's recording.  She ignored the horde that had suddenly turned back and began to shamble in her direction.

"Oh my God this place is amazing! Why am I just learning about this? It must be defended at all costs!!"  She looked at the zombies, and smiled manically.  She began to twirl her cane jauntily.  "Seems like the nightlife here is livelier than you'd expect, too."

"Find Arty or Zombie killing.  Arty or Zombie-Killin'." she considered, having already killed three zombies.  "Guys, this is really hard!"  She complained to the assembled horde even as she caved in the skull of her fourth victim.  "You're like a can of chips!  I can't just stop with one of you!"

Decisions, decisions...

For Brigade

Brigade would soon find his new target. But not before witnessing something a tad odd. A big white van screeching down the street, constantly bouncing up and down as it soon finds itself running over the werewolf corpses that brigade had just created. He'd be able to hear a yell over the roar of the engine, originating from the man driving said vehicle. "DO MORE OF THAT." The person in question was a masked fellow. Bronze mask with a claw mark across the front, as if it had been mauled. Could be the one who got a transmission out of the city when everything was down? Either way, he was long down the street now, tires screeching as he drifted around a corner. A single gunshot is heard as the van leaves a dead human in it's wake. Well. Human looking at first. The jagged teeth and elongated limbs would tell otherwise upon closer inspection.

Unfortunately, all that noise didn't come without attention. Ghouls began making their way out of the alleyways, attracted to the commotion. Yet, something else arrived, towering above them. A tall slender creature covered in black fur moved across the ground similar to an ape, though it's palms were on the ground rather than it's knuckles, revealing long sharp claws caked with blood. One of the ghouls was snatched up in an instant with a single hand. It pulled the beast up to it's maw, which looked vaguely like a large antlered elk skull, save for the sharp teeth and the forward facing eyes of a predator. After ripping the ghoul's head from it's torso, it lifts the body up, dropping the corpse into it's widened maw, bones audibly cracking as it chew's it's snack. The beast then, in an instant, shifted it's gaze to brigade. It stood up on two legs now, those long arms flexing out those claws, leaving slashes in the pavement. It's roar was that of an elk, but deeper. Hungrier.

For Nuada/Cassidy

The power outage had caused some panic in the wake of the lights flickering. The head of security for the building hurried around the corner, having heard the scream. She was visibly not trying to puke as she stared at the corpse, eyes wide. "Fuck...that means...." She unslings the shotgun that was over her shoulder, checking the chamber before moving to stand by the entrance to the exhibit. She finally looks to the massive warrior who had been covering the entrance. "I'll keep things covered here. Would you find whatever did this? Try to stay close to the survivors while you do. Security is spread thin and the more of us that are off on our own, the more grim it gets for the people trying to hide here."

For Nawi

It was as Nawi was picking up the girl that a white van flew by the alley, followed by a tire screech as the vehicle stopped. The engine roared as the vehicle hastily backed up so that it was in front of the alley. There's some shuffling from the silhouette in the front seat of the vehicle before the sliding door on the side of the van opened. There's a few gunshots as an old hunting rifle fires from the van, shooting down a few ghouls that had filtered into the other side of the alley. The man firing the weapon, that being the bronze masked fellow, sets the gun aside before pointing at Nawi and the girl. He then waves in a hurried gesture as he speaks. "Get in! We can get her to Meow Wolf faster!" He then disappears from view as he makes his way back into the driver seat. They would be given plenty of time to join him if they wished, the van roaring down the road afterwards. Should they wish otherwise, they'd get a simple nod before the van speeds off.

For Melody

While traversing the city to her chosen location, she'd easily notice that it wasn't just ghouls and werewolves in the street. Those odd, horrid antlered beasts she'd fought in the woods with that masked weirdo were rampant in the city as well. Though not as common as the other threats, their size and speed made up for that. They were scaling and perching upon the very buildings she was traversing. She'd witness one jump off of a roof, claws digging into the wall of the building as it went down in order to decrease it's own momentum. At the bottom of the building was a cop and a few other survivors, the cop firing at the beast desperately while the others frantically tried to bust open a metal door. Seems they had gotten locked outside at some point.

For Monte

Luckily Monte wouldn't have to debate for long. Around the block came a screeching van. Though the moment Monte comes within view of the driver, the vehicle stops in it's tracks. It begins turning around, as if about to head down the opposite street instead. Then suddenly, it swerves again as it proceeds to jet down the street Monte was on. A fair few of the zombies that were surrounding her would proceed to get their entrails spilled across the grill of the car as the vehicle ran them down until it came to a stop beside Monte. Slowly, the driver side window rolls down to reveal none other than Artificer and his scratched up mask. Without even looking at her, he speaks. "Just get in the car." The van would sit there idling until she obliged. Once Monte was in the vehicle, Arty hands her a shotgun. "Keepy any cryptids off of us. Don't care how as long as it doesn't stop the van." The engine roars as he begins towards his destination once again.

Back at Meow Wolf

A wendigo had been battering against the shield for the past few minutes, cracks appearing in it's composition as a result. The cops in the lobby would be focus firing upon it were there not so many ghouls and lycans in the way. The beast was intelligently using them as cover as it moved from barrier to barrier, inflicting slashes upon it with those brutal claws. At this rate, the barrier would come down. Things looked bleak for a moment.

Suddenly, the beast's attention was grabbed by roaring machinery. Headlights shone into it's demonic eyes as a van came speeding towards the building.  With an indignant howl, it leaped over the van as it drifted sideways, leaving a trail of crushed ghouls in it's wake. The werewolves, intelligent enough to notice, backed off as well. The vehicle was ragged at this point, a total loss in terms of insurance. A few gunshots rang as Arty opened the driver seat door, vaulting out of the vehicle. He hurriedly opens the sliding back door so those within could get out. Once that's done, he spins about just in time to shoot a charging werewolf in the face with his 1911. As the ghouls and werewolves began descending upon the building once more, the Wendigo sat at the back, glowing eyes narrowed as it patiently stared at those exiting the van. "We need to reclaim what of the parking lot we can. The barrier will get taken down at this rate if we don't get some ground back!" Artificer called out in between shots from his gun.