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Isaac didn't argue when Frost offered to drive. Normally he was territorial about his belongings. Yes, he was the sort of guy who generally said 'no one drives my truck except me'. But he had just been hit by a fireball and was in more pain than would be safe for drinking. One bad spite of searing agony and he might steer them into  a tree. So he settled for providing directions, his attention shifting between his tablet and their surroundings. Once parked Isaac began devising a strategy. Not just for dealing with the demon, but dealing with Frost. He wasn't going to sit this out, but there was no way he could go in unmasked and in his current condition. Noticing the silence he looked over at the icy vampire.

"You're a vampire, right? Can you turn into a cloud of mist and blend in with the water until you get close enough to the demon to launch a surprise attack? There has to be a steam not to far off that leads into the ocean."

After making his suggestion Isaac pulled up a map of the area on his tablet and looked for the answer to his own question about a steam. If he sound one near enough, he'd hold up the map and show it to Frost so he could make use of the idea or not at his discretion.

"The rest is up to you. I'm heading to the hospital once you are on your way."

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Frost disappeared into a cloud of white mist at the young man's words, vanishing around the hill like a bank of self-propelled rolling fog. He found the demon, now a shabby parody of his hipster persona, drawing patterns of magic in the sand with a stick. With wings pushing through the torn remnants of its clothes, it looked shabby and worn, like a demonic hipster hobo passing the time on a deserted stretch of beach. 

Where did I learn those words, anyway? Frost thought. 

He waited at the top of the hill for the demon to notice him and the fight to begin anew, but the demon didn't seem interested. Instead it drew more and more signs, muttering to itself in Enochian, occasionally doing an angry, hopping dance from clawed foot to clawed foot. Whatever the demon was trying, it didn't seem to be working. 

Such a shame! thought Frost with little pity as he rolled down the hill towards his target. 

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Once Frost was on his way Isaac climb into the driver's seat and started up the truck. He drove a short ways away, then pulled into a little knook that would conceal his vehicle, and turned the engine off. Wincing, he turned at the hip and reached his arms into the space behind the front seats. There he opened a hidden compartment in the floor board and retrieved an unremarkable black suitcase. Unremarkable, that is, except for the locking mechanism. Isaac pressed his thumbs to the clasps that would trigger the unlock, and as he did so his biometrics and spiritual aura were scanned by the techno-magical scanner imbedded in the case.

Had anyone else opened the suitcase they would have found it empty. Mundane and empty. When Isaac opened it the dimensional displacers built into the suitcase synced, and revealed a space bigger than the exterior would suggest. A mobile storehouse of supplies for the traveling techno-spiritualist. Including his armor and weapon. But instead of suiting up immediately Isaac took reached into the suitcase and retrieved something that looked like a hypospray from Star Trek, and inserted a cylindrical vial into it's base, which contained a metallic silver liquid.

With the vial clicked into place Isaac pressed the hyospray to his neck and pressed a button on it's side. Rapidly the silver liquid drained into his neck. The vial contained tiny machines, smaller than the eye could perceive. The machines were physical constructs, guided by a spirit associated with healing, and temporarily bound to a single task. Spirit guided machines worked rapidly to repair the damage done to Isaac's physical form. Then, after using their limited energy supply, the machines went dormant and the spirit returned to the ether.

His wounds tended to as best as time would allow, Isaac placed the hypospray back where he had taken it from. Then he dawned his armor and wear, making the transmission to the Stormcrow persona. After the suitcase was stored away once more, and with Sky's Fury in hand, Stormcrow advanced on the demon's den using cover to his advantage when possible.

Edited by Sakuro

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