Denver's Demons

It had been a complicated hunt, this bunch. Wild goose chase after wild goose chase all over the state, yet it led back to Denver. Always did. The criminal enterprise had snuck whatever it was scheming into that city. From what he could discern, they were preparing for a major sale of some sort. At best...a poached mythical creature. At worst? A magical sentient. Either way, he didn't want to let it happen within the city he considered his territory of operation. At this moment, to those wandering the evening streets of Denver, he would look like an average upper middle class fellow heading down the street in a dodge hellcat, from initial observation. Despite the type of car, he wasn't speeding. There was no need to, after all. He had plenty of time before anything would get dire. No auctions planned until tomorrow was what his intel said.

The care swerved about into a dark alley, the black cherry color of the car even making it disappear into the darkness. The metal mask was slipped over his already darkness enshrouded face, making sure his identity would remain concealed in the darkness of night. Quietly, the car door opened as he stepped out, shutting the door equally as quietly behind him. Mauled mask then proceeds to head down the alley, crossing the street it transitions to in order to reach the alley one building over. An old warehouse. That was his target.

He pulls a small box out of his coat and clicks it open to reveal a lockpicking kit. Tools taken into hand, he crouches down to get to work on the lock, the only sound in the alley being the barely audible noise of two prongs moving about within the locking mechanism.

In the time since his more "recent" adventures, Turo had been practising with his seismic abilities and his martial arts, though it wasn't that rapid of a climb. The Finn had been quite content with just relaxing in the rural community in Colorado for the time being, until he could go home and straighten his country out for a change. Life was simple and quiet out here, but he was okay with that. People left the blonde weirdo be, and he could keep himself zen despite his many inner issues, along with the whole "Ukko's power within him" deal that he had going on.

Of course, because he stuck out like a sore thumb to the likes of the supernatural, his presence an immaterial beacon to those that dwelt beyond the mundane, it was never going to be calm for Turo for very long. One cold evening, the shrieking of some kind of creature that wasn't regular could be heard throughout Turo's rural community, followed by panicked shouting and an evident ruckus or scuffle. By the time Turo got to the scene, the creature and the assailants were gone, leaving the community with one upstanding member who was gravely injured, and had to be taken to the hospital in Denver. Of course, the Finn went with him. This was a slight that could not go unpunished; someone had harmed a member of the Finn's little clan in America. A price had to be paid, and Turo was the one who had to collect it from whomever performed this transgression. As Turo questioned the recovering community member, he learned of some kind of poachers or hunters, the scummy kind, who were tracking the shrieking creature through this very same town. The injured man stood up to the poachers, trying to get them to cease their efforts to harm and capture this supernatural creature, but was nearly turned to Swiss cheese for his mistake. A few questions later, and Turo got a name and a location, something that the injured fellow had overheard from the poachers before he tried -- and failed -- to intervene. Without any hesitation, Turo rushed out of the hospital and navigated towards the alleged location of the poachers and their catch.

After plenty of running around, his conditioned body and stamina carrying him far, Turo came upon what was supposedly the warehouse the poachers were keeping their catch in, with the entrance laying in a backalley. Once the Finn entered the alleyway, he caught someone with a... Well, some kind of fuck-ugly car parked in the alley, and said someone was trying to pick the lock to this same door. With a total lack of caring, filter, or hesitation, Turo walked up to the door and pressed his palm against it. After a moment taken to heavily and silently focus his great power, mostly to hamper its destructive potential, a sudden and powerful seismic tremor echoed throughout the immediate vicinity, but its true brunt was focused upon the door, which blasted off of its hinges and turned it to a heap of useless material. That was about a second or two down, but he still had roughly ten minutes of usage left today, and with how deep it was into the evening, he wanted to use as much as possible before the clock struck midnight and his own clock reset for the new day.

Without even regarding the man who tried to pick the lock, Turo marched inside the warehouse, his singular icy blue eye burning with a cold vengeance. From the way he carried himself, the way he walked, and the unblinking expression upon his face, the Finn appeared to be as he truly was: A force of nature, here to do the Thunder God's business.