Magical Mystery FATE IC

[Meriss]

When someone like Drake calls, people tend to answer. So you have assembled together in a small modern warehouse in the industrial section of the city.

"Alright, settle people, settle. Listen up!"

The man speaking is obviously your new cabal watch chief. Most of you recognize him as Drake. He looks to be in his early thirties, mostly due to the way he dresses, a style commonly referred to in the community as Nineties Mage. A charcoal grey canvas duster instead of the traditional black leather, blue jeans, and whatever tee shirt happens to be clean.

The young woman standing nearby is dressed a little better in her burgandy messenger jacket and black capri pants. She seems to be fiddling with her pony tail. She glares angrily at a few of you.

The meeting has a sense of ritual, and most of you have seen it all before. Your new watch chief wants to make his presence known and send you off.

"Okay, thanks for coming folks. Most of you have done this before. So I'll keep it quick. Most of you already know me and this officially is my new apprentice Story."

"It's A"

Drake cuts the young woman off quickly "Kid, I've told you before. If you haven't met someone outside of this yet, it's Story. It's just as much for their safety as it is for yours."

"Anyway, as I'm sure you've all figured out I've got my hands full for awhile now. I've asked for your help because my old cabal was chasing the rapist running amok in the city."

"I'm sure you're asking yourself, why do I care? Well, kids, a few of our friends over at the cop shop asked us to look at this guy our way. Turns out we've got ourselves a fledgling."

He allows that to sink in. "I've done fledges before. Yeah, it's as bad as they say it is. Divination is getting us little to nothing, so we have to do this the hard way. We run him down. Some folks want him alive, if possible. Anyway, I'm available off and on if you have questions. I've got my journal stashed around here somewhere if I'm busy. Let's get to it folks."

He claps his hands and rubs them together dramatically. He waves to the young woman and points at the hastily set up gym.

So what are you going to do to Catch This Guy? You could talk to Drake but he's Training the New Kid. He did offer up his journal which means he's old enough not to trust computers, but still you could try Finding Drake's Notes. You could Talk to the Cops, maybe Interview the Victims again? Maybe you want to Do Your Own Thing?

[LnGrrrR]

Donald looks around at everyone gathered, waiting for someone to speak up first. After a beat, he figures someone might as well speak up.

"Let's go Talk to the Cops. I mean, they probably won't be too enthused if we solve the case for them, but maybe we could let them claim the credit and they'd owe us a favor?"

He lets the comment hang in the air, then idly takes a card out of his hand and flips it end over end between his hands, showing some fair amount of dexterity. He looks at it idly, and notices it is an Eight of Pentacles. He chuckles, and continues to flip it. He looks at the others waiting for their thoughts.

[gremlin-pult]

Cops? Nooo thank you...

Marcus had been pleasantly surprised to find Don amongst his new social circle. The kid would have come here by car, surely. Wonderful.
But going to the cops? Marcus did not think that was a good idea. Besides the fact that some of them might very well be working with either one of his pursuing groups, he just didn't like cops in general.
"Nah, you know what Donnie, I think I'll sit that one out. Sure, it might help, but I don't think it'll be smart for all of us to go. We should split up our efforts. So while you go to the cops, I think I'll have a look-see at Drake's notes. a pair of fresh eyes might find something there that can help."

Plus any other useful tidbits the good mister Drake might write down...

[Merilan]

Present in the room, and known to some people as Ruchelle, is a -- frankly, inhumanly beautiful young girl... perhaps with the kind of artificial beauty that feels uncanny for a human, with alabaster skin and milk-white hair with a countenance that seems to make her look more like a high-quality doll than anything else. Her sense of dress also contributes to that factor, with an elegant black rose corsage and a capelet and billowing Gothic dress combination of fanciful, if rustic tailoring skill. A brooch with a blue gem pulls the capelet together at her neck.

A silvered sword can be seen sheathed underneath the capelet behind her back, though it seems like it's been tricked out with a mechanism onto what looks like a thin, rectangular case. A hunter's weapon, unpredictable and suited for the job.

"... I would like to talk to the victims," she speaks in a monotone which is both business-like, and yet flat and subdued. "This is a crime of virulent, corrupt passion, and what lingers around both the perpetrator and the victim... is the passage of blood."

She cranes her head towards the ceiling. "The blood will help paint a path towards the perpetrator." Her eyes narrow in unison, pupils shrinking. It almost feels like a mechanical motion. "The hunt shall begin in earnest then."

[gremlin-pult]

Marcus stared blankly at the girl for a few moments, before snapping out of it and giving her a smile.
"Sounds like a plan, babe. You seem like the perfect fit for that job. Real people person." He said without batting an eye. He then pulled out a cigarette and lighter, lit it, and took a long drag before getting out of the chair he'd been lounging in.
"So I'm just gonna start looking for those notes. Oh, and Donnie, my man, would you do me a solid a bring some cheese cake from the "Countryside diner" with you when you get back from the station? I'm cravin' some sweets."

Walking over to Drakes personal effects, he started leafing idly through the first stack of papers he found. "Yo Drake! Imma look through your stuff, k?"

[Meriss]

There's yell across the room. "Whatever! .... Desk..... Back!"

Marcus deciphers this to mean there is a workdesk near the back of the warehouse. It isn't too difficult to find. But, the state of the desk itself.

Typical mage's workdesk. Piled high with books, papers, candles, telesma, bric a brac. This might take awhile.


Gimme a Notice or Investigation roll to Overcome Drake's mess. Great (+3)

[gremlin-pult]

Seeing the mess, Marcus briefly considered setting it on fire.
It would be so easy...
Instead, he sighed heavily and dug into the piles of clutter.


Notice roll: [roll0]

With every piece of garbage, every old candle and every scrap of paper that was NOT the rumored notes, Marcus felt his patience wearing thinner. The fire idea got more and more tantalizing with every second....
Recognizing the signs, Marcus quickly lit up a new cigarette and took a few quick puffs on it before he felt like continuing his search.

[Meriss]

It takes Marcus the better part of an hour to sort through the clutter. He gets briefly distracted by a promising looking book which turns out to be a treatise on ... magical snowshoes? Who would want something like that?

Eventually he locates a slim leather bound book with the classical symbols for the four elements on the cover. This had to be Drake's Journal!

Marcus opens the the book to the first page hoping for some juicy tidbit from Drake's youth.

Only to find this message.
Hey there thief! If you're reading this, well I guess you found my journal. Good luck reading it!

As Marcus laughs at Drake's silly joke. He turns the page. And discovers that the rest of the journal is written in an Ancient Arcane Tongue! Drake is clearly Pissing You Off!


Take the compel? :smallbiggrin:

[gremlin-pult]

Marcus gave the nonsensical scribblings a long, hard stare. He started chuckling to himself, before turning towards where Drake was.
"Heeey, Drakey..." He said in a clear, tightly controlled voice. As he started walking slowly over towards Drake, the air started to heat up around him, literally rippling from the heat distortions. "You cajole me, no, pretty much BLACKMAIL me into comin' here, to be a part of your little mystery solver clubhouse... You know, I could live with that. I've had worse jobs." He continued, shrugging casually at the observation.

"But this..." As Marcus held up the notebook, the air around rose another 10 or 20 degrees. It was now far to hot for anyone normal to comfortably be within 15 ft of him. Smoke started rising from his clothes, and small flames started appearing, setting his shoulders and upper arms alight. He gave the fire no attention whatsoever.
"This... Is a ****ing insult! You think I'm just gonna take your asinine jokes with a smile, and then go do your little dirtywork? I'm not a friggin pet, or an apprentice, you monumental douchebag!!"
As Marcus' voice rose to a roar, so did the flames around him, turning into a miniature inferno that flowed around his body like it had a will of it's own. So far it kept within the 15 ft radius, and seemed to almost consciously avoid burning his clothes too bad.
"I hope you have a damn good explanation for this, or Imma gonna really crank up the heat!"

[LnGrrrR]

Don raises an eyebrow at Marcus. "Yeah sure, I will get right on that. So, anyone else going with me to the cops?" He looks at the female, trying to get a sense of her. He hesitates, wondering if he should invite her. He relents, saying, "Look, you can ride with me if you want. But, let me do the talking please. Frankly, I think you would weird them out. No offense."

He waits for her response, and watches Marcus stride towards a room near the back.

[kenmadragon]

"Hold on a sec, all of you." the wind wizard known to the rest as Marut, but to people he liked as Arthur, spoke up. The man was dressed rather casually, leaning against a warehouse wall in his jeans and button down shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, vest buttoned up with a small silver chain from a pendant dangling from his neck glinting against it. "I'm all for talking to people, but can we address the elephant in the room concerning we don't know what this fledge can do?"

"And calm the hell down, ya bloody pryo!" Arthur shouted over his shoulder at the pryomancer who'd gone looking for the book. "You'll set off the damned alarm, idiot!"

[Merilan]

Ruchelle's face is almost comically impassive even as Marcus' anger rages into a nigh-literal inferno behind her.

"I have other means to speak than through my lips," comes Ruchelle's answer to Don. She doesn't sound like she has disagreed, though. ... or agreed. It's difficult to tell with her. "I do not intend to unsettle the victims. They have suffered enough."

She glances towards Arthur -- Marut -- and nods. "Yes. That is a point that should be addressed as well."

[gremlin-pult]

Marcus's head spun around, until he glared wide-eyed at Arthur. For a long tense moment the only movement from his direction was the flames. Marcus then procured a cigarette from his pocket with a shaky hand. Lighting it on the conveniently placed open flames around him, he started puffing greedily on it. Slowly the flames started receding, until they drew back into his body, and he was left with smoke rising from his whole body.
"Point... Taken..." Marcus forced out through clenched lips, before taking another drag on his cig. "But I still want... A damn answer... from mister funny over there."

He then walked over, placed the now quite singed, but still somewhat readable, book on the table, and lit another cigarette.
After a moment he relaxed, casually turned his head his toward Drake's cluttered table, and spat a small whitehot fireball at it. When it hit the table it burst in a flash, leaving the table blackened, Drake's papers in ashes, and his candles completely melted.
"Whoops..." He said, without missing a beat.

[LnGrrrR]

"Does it really matter, as long as he doesn't find us? Besides, I am pretty sure the cops will give us a good idea. They do know we're coming, right Drake? I mean, it might be awkward if we just walk in there like we are part of the joint."

He turns to the girl and says, "And you... yeah you might not mean to scare people, but I'm pretty sure you will anyways. You don't really look like the "people" type, am I right?"

Don wants to see how she reacts to that comment... (Rerolled Empathy in OOC thread due to typo, got a 5)

[roll0]

He looks over at Marcus, and begins to back up. It doesn't take a genius to note that he is a few screws loose.

[Meriss]

"I hope you have a damn good explanation for this, or Imma gonna really crank up the heat!"

Drake turns away from the gym and Story. He tilts his head sideways and starts chuckling.

He slowly walks towards the raging inferno. The flames part like shower curtains around him as he approaches Marcus. True it was Wildfire but it was still Fire. One of the Four Elements. Drake doesn't even seem to sweat as he snatches the journal from Marcus' hand.

"I didn't blackmail you. I offered you a chance. A chance to be better than you were. So cool down or I'll do it for you." He points above Marcus' head. Directly at the Overhead Sprinklers.

He passes Marcus the book back. "Now put it back. Better yet, give it to someone who knows what they're doing."

[Merilan]

He turns to the girl and says, "And you... yeah you might not mean to scare people, but I'm pretty sure you will anyways. You don't really look like the "people" type, am I right?"

Ruchelle's face is subtle, but it's clear that she acknowledges that fact. "... I will not deny it," she answers tersely. "However, Madame Frei has requested that I try my best, nonetheless. Please allow me this opportunity."

[gremlin-pult]

Drake turns away from the gym. And Story. He tilts his head sideways and starts chuckling.

He slowly walks towards the raging inferno. The flames part around like shower curtains around him as he approaches Marcus. True it was Wildfire but it was still Fire. One of the Four Elements. Drake doesn't even seem to sweat as he snatches the journal from Marcus' hand.

"I didn't blackmail you. I offered you a chance. A chance to be better than you were. So cool down or I'll do it for you." He points above Marcus' head. Directly at the Overhead Sprinklers

He passes Marcus the book back. "Now put it back. Better yet give it to someone who knows what they're doing."

"A chance?..." Marcus muttered, looking at first startled, then a bit mollified by Drake's words. He glanced towards what he'd done to Drake's table.
He knew he'd let his temper get the better of him. Again. "Dammit... "

He looked at Drake, then at the ground. "Sorry..." He forced out "Sorry I got heated up like that... Didn't know you could do that, though. You a fire mage too?"

[kenmadragon]

Unfazed by it all, Arthur merely raises an eyebrow at Marcus. Well, that was interesting. Then again, Arthur had seen far stranger...

"Drake's a general elementalist." Arthur explained offhandedly. "If you give him fire, he can manipulate it.

[Meriss]

Drake smiles that same infuriating smile. "Yeah, manipulate. Sums it up nicely. Seriously kid, no worries. I should know better by now than to tempt fate. But you should probably apologize to him." He points at Arthur. "Half of those books were on loan. Marut, seriously though. You would know better than me what a fledge can do. I'm looking at two right now. You, and him" Drake gestures at Marcus. "Compare notes. You're all big mages."

He walks back towards his slack jawed apprentice. "Did I say stop? Keep going girl, daylight's burning!"

[gremlin-pult]

"Wait, what?" Marcus said with a confused frown "I'm a fledge? When did that happen? I'm just a fire mage with a broken limiter on my power... Oooh." He continued as realisation hit him.
"So the fact that I'm leaps and bounds ahead of any other fire mage I've ever met in terms of power, but my control is all messed up is because I'm a fledge? Huh, fancy that. Makes sense, I guess..."

He turned to Arthur, scratching his head awkwardly. "Oh, and uh, sorry about the burned books n' stuff... Like I said, kinda got some temper issues... The cig's help me keep control."

[kenmadragon]

"Let me rephrase..." Arthur held up a finger, rolling his eyes. "What the fledge has done that we want to be aware of." The wind wizard glanced between the young teenager and the white-haired gothic lolita. They certainly wouldn't belong in the police station. One was far too young and more likely to be ignored simply because of his age. The other was... well, it wasn't the best of ideas.

"And you're not a fledge. Not anymore, at least." Arthur shrugged. He knew Donald would appreciate the explanation of the terminology, and he wasn't sure that the lolita arleady knew - it was very hard to read that woman. He hadn't noticed that until now, when she wasn't wearing sunglasses to hide behind. "A fledgling is what we in the community call someone about to Rend, but before they actually do. They've got no idea what they are, and no clue what the hell they're really doing."

[Meriss]

"Let me rephrase..." Arthur held up a finger, rolling his eyes. "What the fledge has done that we want to be aware of."


That earns a comment from Drake. "So far, he's raped six mundane women. Some in places he shouldn't be able to." He watches Story land a difficult dismount off the parallel bars. "Last week, he made his first kill." That drives Story's fist through a six inch solid steel plate. "Oh and if it helps. Mephisto and his Demons are interested."


Anyone may Roll Good (+2) or better on Contacts to recall Mephisto and his Demons. Aspects may be invoked.

[LnGrrrR]

Donald looks around and sees people bickering over terminology, losing their temper, and generally being unproductive. He stomps into the general center of all parties, and waves his hands in the air to get everyone's attention.

"Can everyone just SLOW THE F*** DOWN for a moment? Yes? Because none of this is helping. We are all sitting around talking about fledges this and mages that, and none of us are actually DOING anything.

Drake, I know you're busy, but can you at least give us some more info so we can actually help you? You know, like you all called us here to do? So far you've done a great job of pissing Marcus off which would be great if we were, say, I don't know, about to face 20 armed thugs. But starting a fire in a library full of books doesn't seem like the best plan.

So can we all get on the same page, or what? Someone take charge, or this whole thing is going to collapse."

He finishes, noting to himself it wasn't quite as eloquent as he had hoped for. But maybe it will get the job done.

[Merilan]

Ruchelle is, once more, ever the comically unexpressive statue that hasn't moved from her spot the entire time as Don makes his declaration.

"I was trusting you to gather from your end of the investigation," she quietly advises, eyes shut. "I shall see what the blood has to say from the victims. I expect a trail, if not more. Were not going to come with me..." A pause. She just now realises she doesn't know Don's name.

[LnGrrrR]

Donald spies the girl once more, and softens his tone. "You're good. And if you can perform some sort of magical bloodhound thing, I am all for it. In fact, I might be able to read something too from it, once I got there. But we still don't know who the victims are, or where it happened.

We shouldn't waste time; the trail will only get colder. Unless everyone else just wants to wait around until a second body shows up? Admittedly it would provide us a lot more evidence to go on, but I am throwing my hat in the "not siting around waiting for him to kill again" arena.

I know she's with me, at least." He nods towards the girl and smiles, hoping he comes off a bit more sensitive this time.

[Merilan]

"Do we not know the victims?" asks Ruchelle, looking at Drake. "The target attacked six victims, but only killed one. Do the police not have them in protection?"

[LnGrrrR]

Donald looks at Ruchelle, then shrugs. He looks to Drake, wondering if he will provide any info, or they will have to figure that out themselves.

[Q'telun]

James occupies a chair, and sprawls out over the space surrounding it too. He watches the papers burn with a small amount of amusement. "Rape victims don't usually get witness protection. If any of you Know a Cop we can probably get an address out of them. And flame head, hand the book over after you put the fire out will ya? I wanna see what Drake wrote that got you so worked up."

[Meriss]

Drake looks at the ceiling in a gesture of "give me strength" He glares at Story. "Don't stop this time."

He walks over to the group and places his hand on Don's shoulder. "C'mere kid."

He draws the youth away from the rest of the group. "Look kid. This whole thing isn't just about Catching This Guy it's about teaching you guys how to mage 101. Seriously, I mean look at who I called in." He raises a hand and gestures at the group. "A kid diviner, an emotionless girl, a raging pyro, an out of touch wind mage and a criminal."

He sighs and then smiles "You guys are on the right track. Take my journal to 36. He'll need Marut to translate though. You take the girl and Grumpy McBurny down to the 30th precinct. Ask for Sergeant Kevin Styles, he's a pal. And kid, if you want to know why I have to focus on Story."

He points at the fist sized hole in the steel plate. "That, could have been your head."

[gremlin-pult]

"Ok, sure, I'll tag along to the cops... Just one thing though." Marcus said, holding one finger in the air. "Friggin Mephisto? THE Mephisto? Mephistopheles, the lord of lies and all round bad ****? First of all, last I heard he was busy harassing some poor bastard in Europe. Second of all, if HE has any interest in this, whatsoever, we shouldn't be looking for this guy. We should be dropping a nuke on the city, then ritually salting the ground of the whole place... Jusst saying."

He lit yet another cigarette, then continued. "Oh, and while I like the whole Mcburny thing, if we absolutely need codenames n' ****, call me Wildfire. Or Wildfire Prince, if yer feelin' fancy. Personally I think it's a bit pretentious, but hey, I didn't choose it."

[Meriss]

"Ok, sure, I'll tag along to the cops... Just one thing though." Marcus said, holding one finger in the air. "Friggin Mephisto? THE Mephisto? Mephistopheles, the lord of lies and all round bad ****? First of all, last I heard he was busy harassing some poor bastard in Europe. Second of all, if HE has any interest in this, whatsoever, we shouldn't be looking for this guy. We should be dropping a nuke on the city, then ritually salting the ground of the whole place... Jusst saying."


Story hollers from the top of an eight foot pole "Wait! That guy from last week is a freakin' demon!?"

She jumps off the pole with a double somersault, makes a perfect three point landing and rushes over to Drake in an eyeblink.

"Well ****, let's go get him then! I mean if he's that bad we should be all over him right?"

Drake looks like he wants to murder Wildfire. "One, get back to work! Two, he's just a local gang banger with good marketing. Styles can tell you all about him."

[LnGrrrR]

Don comes back much calmer after having talked with Drake. He looks at Marcus and Ruchelle, and tells them, "Marcus, I know you need a ride anyways, so tag along with me. I may only be a kid, but I still think I should be the point an since I have a) enough emotion to act normal and b) enough control to not burn down a police precinct. Oh and speaking of which Marcus, you need another, more subtle nickname. I am NOT calling you "wildfire" around the cops."

"Speaking of which, if it makes that much of a difference, I guess you can call me Benjamin.

Arthur, you and James can study this book. I at least trust you two to leave this place standing."

With that, Don turns abruptly and begins to walk out the door.

[Q'telun]

"Drake, you wound me. I'm not a criminal. You have to commit crimes to be a criminal." James takes out his pack of cigarettes and lights one up, then starts riffling through the journal. "Yeah, I can only read a bit of this. Marut, help me out here?"

[kenmadragon]

Donald's outburst earned a pair of raised eyebrows and an expression of surprise from Arthur, who hadn't expect the teen to react like that. Then a scowl when Drake called him "out of touch". Well, at least he was keeping a calm head in all of this. Obviously, cabal-work would be a trial all on it's own.

"They ain't codenames. They're nicknames..." Arthur shook his head. Taking the book from Thirty-Six, the wizard began to page through the notes, frowning slightly. "I recognize the script, but.. Oh, I see. Hmn. Jesus, Drake, you couldn't just use Aramaic like a normal person? Or ciphered Ancient Etruscan?"

Pulling out a few scraps of paper and a pen, Arthur began scribbling notes as he began to translate the script, muttering things to himself as he worked. Those with an attentitive ear would hear his words speaking dead languages in order to finagle his way around the obscure script and syntax.

[Merilan]

If there is a notion of agreement from Ruchelle, she doesn't particularly show it as she also leaves towards the door.

[Meriss]

As Don's car pulls up to the precinct, he finds it difficult to find a parking spot. Eventually he parks about half a block away. The mages enter the police precinct and are quickly confronted by the sheer volume of the place. The noise from the first floor bull pen is unreal. Sitting at the reception desk is a heavy set black woman in a uniform. Her badge reads "Parker". She notices the collection of odd people and sighs heavily.

"Whatya want?" She askes the air in their direction. Now what?

[Merilan]

This place... it carries with it the heavy weight of sin, brought about by both spirit and blood...

Ruchelle looks just a little distracted as they enter the police precinct, taking the time to just... absorb the atmosphere of the place. She doesn't look spaced out, just... occupied by something that seems intangible to the naked eye. But the voice of the receptionist catches her, and she looks to Don.

"We would like to speak with Sergeant Kevin Styles, at his earliest convenience."

[Q'telun]

James settles in behind the desk, looking for Additional Notes that might have survived the fire. "Its Drake, he has to be a smug ass about everything, even the language he writes his notes in. Though thats true for most mages I think."

[Meriss]

We would like to speak with Sergeant Kevin Styles, at his earliest convenience."

The woman sighs again. "Idunno we're pretty busy. Might take awhile to find him." She doesn't seem to be actively trying to stop you. She's just tired and bored. Mundane bureaucracy at its finest.


Roll against the receptionist's Average Will. Any social skill, though with all those cops behind her I don't recommend Provoke. Or you could try to sneak in with Stealth. :smallbiggrin:

[gremlin-pult]

Marcus, standing two steps behind the others, studies the woman behind the counter, sorting her within his mental categories of people. His quite impressive track record of smooth talking women wouldn't fail him here.
Hmm. She's tired, so what she wants most of all is to go home and relax. Failing that she is craving someone to vent her frustrations to, which she can't do without them initiating it. That would be unprofessional. Huh? Hmmm... A picture of kids. She misses them. I can use that.

After his initial analysis was done, Marcus reached into his coat pocket, feeling his wallet. He ran a hand through his hair in a universal gesture of weariness, mussing his hair up slightly in the process. He then walked over to the counter.
"Excuse me, officer Parker." He said, keeping his voice low enough to make it seem like a somewhat private conversation between them, but not low enough to seem suspicious. "I get it. I really do. It's hell working on days like this. Especially when you just know that it's gonna be overtime, too."
He made his voice sound slightly raw, the world-weary voice of a fellow worker drone who just wanted to be home amongst his loved ones.
He kept silent for a moment, then "spotted" the picture of her family. "Those are some beautiful kids. Man, A dad can really tell from those smiles that you're a good mother." He observed with a warm smile. He then pulled out his wallet, opening it to reveal a picture of a giggling baby, no more than a year old.
"This one's my own. Little Kimmy. Best day of my life when I saw those little eyes for the first time." He said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "You know, when she was born My first instinct was to become, like, a cop or a firefighter. Anything where I could make the world a safer place for her, Yannow? Of course, that didn't happen... But that's why I admire you guys so much. Making the world a safer place for my little angel." Marcus damn well near had tears in his eyes at this point. Every inch the stupidly loving young father.
"Of course, now I occasionally have the chance to help the cops with some more weird cases... Like this one." He continued, and his voice got harder immediately, raw with anger and disgust. "I mean, that's what we wanna talk with mister Styles about. This disgusting creep, going around and doing those, those...." His voice caught on the emotions, as if he couldn't bring himself to say the words, they were that horrible. "...Abominable things to those poor girls. Every time I hear something, I can't help but think that for a 10 to 15 year age difference, that could be my Kimmy..."
Marcus then lapsed into silence, looking for all the world as if he was fighting hard not to break down at the mere thought of the rapist. In reality, he was waiting for the uniformed receptionist-trout to latch onto his fishing hook.

Overcome[/I] the woman, getting her to help us]
I of course invoke the Aspect Misses her children to garner some good will with the woman. AKA, a +2 to my Rapport check :smallbiggrin:
I'll not add the +2 from Fire bows to no man yet, since I'm not sure if that one will be allowed.
[roll0]

[Meriss]

There are tears in the woman's eyes. Genuine tears. Where once sat a bastion of impenetrable bureaucracy, there is now just a weeping mother.

Marcus almost feels bad for laying it on so thick. Almost.

"Yessir, that's a terrible thing. I'll call the sargeant right away."

She picks up her phone and there is a brief conversation with someone. She lays the phone down in it's cradle. "He's on his way, sir."

She reaches out and grasps Marcus' hands. Suddenly her face is hopeful and desperate. "You'll find him? Won't you, sir? Jesus will help you, I know. You're doing his justice."

[gremlin-pult]

Marcus laid a gentle hand on top of hers, and looked her in the eyes. "If he wasn't helping me, he wouldn't have put someone who would understand behind your counter tonight." He said, giving her a thankful smile. "You and your family are blessed to have each other."

[Meriss]

Pulling out a few scraps of paper and a pen, Arthur began scribbling notes as he began to translate the script, muttering things to himself as he worked. Those with an attentitive ear would hear his words speaking dead languages in order to finagle his way around the obscure script and syntax.

Arthur knew Drake was a mage. True. But a mage was still a man. Men made mistakes, and somewhere Drake had made one.

A few pages into the book Arthur spotted a pattern. One symbol Drake had used over and over again. Arthur had seen it before. The Shrine of Astarte texts. Drake was using Babylonian! He was just being lazy and writing right to left like in English.

With that Drake's whole web fell apart. Arthur found the names of all Six Living Victims, he even noticed what Drake had. The description was always the same. The victims never recalled his face. Only his Burning Red Eyes.

[Merilan]

I do not wish for this cycle to continue onward...

Ruchelle watches Marcus and his mannerisms, as he lays it on upon the receptionist. Was that... how people were intended to speak? People were... so very confusing. The way each of them moved, and brought upon their own tenets of personality...

The spirits were once so pure, so easy to understand.

In comparison, the world of humans is ever so chaotic. The way one person says something, but means another... the way people forget, and lie...

"Thank you," Ruchelle remembers to say. "We shall not be long."

[Meriss]

Marcus laid a gentle hand on top of hers, and looked her in the eyes. "If he wasn't helping me, he wouldn't have put someone who would understand behind your counter tonight." He said, giving her a thankful smile. "You and your family are blessed to have each other."



There's a sudden throat clearing noise from just to the left of the reception desk. Standing in the door is a heavily muscled black man wearing a white tee shirt and denim jeans. His hair is tightly braided into corn rows.

"Sargeant Styles! Sir" the receptionist stumbled over herself trying to regain her composure.

"Thanks Debbie, I'll take it from here" his voice is a rich mellow Jamaican baritone. He gestures to follow him. As you wade through the bull pen you're greeted by all the worst mankind can offer. Junkies, hookers, what might very well be a living trash heap. Styles stops at one of the desks piled high with paper work, files, dead coffee cups. He looks around the busy bull pen, then at his "guests" does some quick mental arithmetic and herds you all into a small conference room off the main area.

"If you tell me dat little missy here lost her pet hellhound or imp-cat, I'm going straight back to Jamaica. Dey don't pay me enough to be lost and found for da whole damn city, mon! At least at home it's only hougans and zombies I have ta be carin' about."

Ah, one of those "pals".

[Merilan]

Ruchelle walks through the bullpen along with the others, and her attention is once more piqued towards the veritable selection of depravity, desperation and sin. There was a way in which the spirits of sinners became tainted. They stray off their path, losing that purity... everyone's spirit does, sooner or later, but there was a select way in which one betrays one's sense of morality that particularly coloured the spirit.

"We are here to catch the serial rapist that has been attacking women in the city," Ruchelle gets straight to the point, without frill in her voice... despite the volumes of frills on her body. "We request information from you to assist in our hunt. We'd like to speak to some of the victims, as well."

[gremlin-pult]

Marcus simply watched the exchange between Styles and Ruchelle silently. He was perfectly content with letting her take point on that. He figured he'd done enough for now to get the ball rolling. A little acting was all it took.
Well, maybe not all of it was acting. But that was one of the few things dad and I always agreed on. The really good conmen are the ones who know when to pepper the lies with a bit of truth...

[Meriss]

"We are here to catch the serial rapist that has been attacking women in the city," Ruchelle gets straight to the point, without frill in her voice... despite the volumes of frills on her body. "We request information from you to assist in our hunt. We'd like to speak to some of the victims, as well."

Styles mouth hangs open as the girl speaks. " zhhhh....ush!" He rushes over to the open door checks to see if anyone was watching or listening. And quickly slams the door.

"By Jah! Don't be saying anythin' like that in here! 'These cases are not officially connected. They are similar but isolated cases' Dat's the line from on high anyway. So who you workin' for, Brotherhood? Greenies? What mad man sent you chasin' fledglings?"

[Merilan]

Ruchelle is silent for a moment, as she allows Styles to close the door behind them. She doesn't understand why the police would hide the connectedness of the cases... it seems a peculiar decision, but she wasn't connected enough to be able to say. She makes a point of it silently, however.

"A man named Drake," she answers. "And I do not see where sanity factors into this." Her eyes narrow with a clearness in them, resolute as she says, "I shall not let this fledgeling's mistake be left uncorrected."

[Meriss]

Light dawns in Styles eyes. "Aye, it would be Drake. You tell Drake that he still owes Fugitive a fin from last time." Styles sighs.

He scratches his chin. "By Jah. What to do?" He ponders for another moment. "I'm going out to my desk, getting a file and then putting it on this here table. And what happens to it then, I don't know. Are we clear missy?"

[LnGrrrR]

Donald follows the others in, keeping silent for once. Marcus and Ruchelle seemed to have done this sort of thing before, so he was merely watching their actions and taking mental notes. He was wondering what use he would be; compared to everyone else he was a lightweight here.

He figured he would just keep his eyes and ears open, and bide his time.

[Merilan]

"That is fine," answers Ruchelle. What was it that made all these people so skittish, so concerned to act against a known perpetrator? Perhaps it was the sheer difference in power. Even the majority of the police are not in the know, unlike Sergeant Styles. And even he has his limits. How difficult it truly is, to act against those that would shake the status quo when you do not have the luxury to operate at large...

Perhaps that was what Madame Frei was talking about. But... it still didn't sit entirely right in Ruche's mind.

"Thank you." She glances towards Don and Marcus. "When we visit the victims, I will leave the speaking to you," she addresses the boy... who probably isn't much younger than her, given her doll-like countenance gives off a surprisingly young image. But her speech and mannerisms certainly seem mature. "I will sense the disturbance in their spirit."

A pause. "My name is Ruchelle Noire. It is nice to meet the both of you."

[gremlin-pult]

"Sure, sure." Marcus retorted, taking the opportunity to light a cig while the sergeant fetched the file they needed. "I'm Marcus."

He watched Ruchelle for a moment, contemplating her behaviour. It was a bit freaky, even for a mage. Then again, his great-uncle Stanislav had been absolutely convinced that he was the ruler of all rats, and prophesied to bring about their rise to power and the fall of mankind.
"Sooo, Ru..." Marcus said casually "What's with the doll-routine? You actually raised to be like that, or is it just an act to weird people out?"
Normally he wouldn't have tried to sate his curiousity that directly, but Ruchelle herself seemed to be more blunt than a baseball bat, so he figured that talking to her the same way would yield the clearest answers.

Before she could answer, he turned to Don, pointing at him with his cigarette. "Oh, and before I forget, remember that we're stopping for cake at the countryside on the way back." He said. He then turned back to Ruchelle, awaiting her answer with an expression of mild curiousity.

[kenmadragon]

"Ugh. This is horrid stuff..." Arthur scrunched his face as he read the translations he had managed to complete of the testimony from the victims. "See, this is why I never wanted to be a police officer when I was a child. Just... dear god, that's sick!"

Thrusting his translations to the earth mage looking around the place, Arthur looked around for a chair. Landing himself down in the rickety chair Drake had by his desk, Arthur rubbed his temples, trying to puzzle it all out. "Okay, so this fledge has simply been going around, assaulting young woman in hard to reach places, and getting away without a trace. He's using magic subconsciously to do this, and if Divinations are coming up blank, then he's subconsciously masking himself too. So, thaumaturgical tracking is useless. The fact that none of his victims can remember his face plays into that too..."

"I mean, he's becoming a supernatural, all right. But what I don't get is the why? He clearly has no idea what he's doing, so it's not like he's showing off. Then why? What the hell could this bastard's mental malfunction be that he would want to do all this?"

[Merilan]

Ruchelle's one great answer to everything in life is applied, as she turns to Marcus to answer:

"I do not understand."

[Q'telun]

James looks the translations over with a vague sort of interest, setting a pile of Additional Notes next to Arthur. "Oh, yeah, thats pretty bad. But the rending is traumatic. He was probably like you before he got involved in magic, or at least a decent person." He flips through the pages until he finds the murder victim.

"I want to know why he killed this one though. Its not like she'd remember him after the fact. Is it more of him being crazy? Or did something happen here that made him doubt his magic."

[Meriss]

"I mean, he's becoming a supernatural, all right. But what I don't get is the why? He clearly has no idea what he's doing, so it's not like he's showing off. Then why? What the hell could this bastard's mental malfunction be that he would want to do all this?"

There is a rustle on one corner of the work desk. Someone deposited a white paper bag from a nearby deli. Arthur and James look up from the paper work and see Drake smiling at them.

"C'mon, it's after one. Time to eat. I got pastrami."

He glances over Arthur's notes. And chuckles ruefully. "Good, you figured it out. What can I say? I'm a creature of habit. But this is why I said you were out of touch Marut. Why does he want to do this? Because He Can. Sometimes being a mage is all about getting away with it. We all have that little voice in the back of our head telling us 'you have the power, just do it'."

He sighs heavily and runs his fingers through his hair. "Trust me, I've been doing this for nearly ten years. Being a mage means having the power to show the world who you really are. Sometimes, who you really are, ain't nice. Anywho, back to it. Yo, Story! I got lunch!" He turns back to the gym.

[Meriss]

Ruchelle's one great answer to everything in life is applied, as she turns to Marcus to answer:

"I do not understand."

Styles walks back into the conference room carrying a plain yellow file folder. He sets it down on the small table and turns to the door. "Please, don't read dat in here. For what it's worth, I really hope you people catch dis guy. Nice meeting you all." The meeting is clearly ending.

[gremlin-pult]

Styles walks back into the conference room carrying a plain yellow file folder. He sets it down on the small table and turns to the door. "Please, don't read dat in here. For what it's worth, I really hope you people catch dis guy. Nice meeting you all." The meeting is clearly ending.

"Thanks Sergeant." Marcus said. He then took the file, slipped it into the inner pocket of his jacket. "Ok then. Let's get going, folks." He said to Don and Ruchelle, and proceeded to walk out of the station. On the way he gave the receptionist a friendly smile and a reassuring nod.

[Q'telun]

James chews his Pastrami sandwich thoughtfully. "Hey Drake, these poems, they're from the fledge right? And the victims never would've been interviewed by the police about them. Maybe we should look for a JCL in the victim's lives. Or for an absence of one."

[Meriss]

James chews his Pastrami sandwich thoughtfully. "Hey Drake, these poems, they're from the fledge right? And the victims never would've been interviewed by the police about them. Maybe we should look for a JCL in the victim's lives. Or for an absence of one."

Drake crunches through his pickle. "What? Oh yeah, those. Someone noticed them in the paper after the third victim. They're from him. None of them had any JCL in their lives. But the timing was weird enough, and most of them remember our boy telling them to call him Johnny. The hunting imagery is bad. I'm sure you guys know what happens when a regular mage starts seeing people as prey. You don't want to know what happens when a fledge does it."

He looks at Story. "Alright, you finished? C'mon we're going out."

She looks more animated then she has all morning. "To Catch This Guy, Cool! Let's roll!"

"Nope, to catch up with a few of my other friends."

The young woman groans as they leave the warehouse.

[Q'telun]

"S'long as he's not calling himself Jack." James takes another look at the poems. "Writing looks like my level so he probably Isn't That Smart, but he posted them in the newspaper, so he's probably got a High Opinion of Himself." He lights his fifth cigarette of the hour and leans back in his chair. "How're we gonna find a guy hiding himself with magic anyway?"

[kenmadragon]

"Yeah..." Arthur mumbled while translating the other notes Thirty-Six managed to find. "Only problem with your explanation is that fledges don't know what they're doing. They work magic unconsciously, never aware that they actually have power. I mean, sure, he could be noticing the weirdness, but that doesn't mean he actually knows he's got power."

"If Johnny is raping young women, then he's not doing it because he's got power. He's doing it because he wants to rape women. And he wants to do that so bad, his fledgling magic is enabling him to do it. And now? Now he's killed... which means he's going to want to kill again."

[Merilan]

Ruchelle nods with a bow, taking the files with her as necessary to slip out towards the streets. "... what is this... countryside cake you speak of?"

[Meriss]

"Thanks Sergeant." Marcus said. He then took the file, slipped it into the inner pocket of his jacket. "Ok then. Let's get going, folks." He said to Don and Ruchelle, and proceeded to walk out of the station. On the way he gave the receptionist a friendly smile and a reassuring nod.

The receptionist gives Marcus a smile and wave as they leave.

As Don drives to the Countryside Diner. Marcus opens the file folder and starts reading. He discovers that Styles gave them a complete case summary. Sweet!

Marcus looks through Styles' notes He discovers the particulars of the Six Living Victims as well as a brief synopsis of the autopsy on the Poor Dead Girl.

[Q'telun]

"Mm, not necessarily. If Johnny really is a psycho, sure, but if he's just a scared kid out of his mind he might not." James runs through the notes on the victims again. "Where the hell is he meeting these girls? If he's just picking randoms off the street then its gonna be hell to find him."

[gremlin-pult]

The receptionist gives Marcus a smile and wave as they leave.

As Don drives to the Countryside Diner. Marcus opens the file folder and starts reading. He discovers that Styles gave them a complete case summary. Sweet!

Marcus looks through Styles' notes He discovers the particulars of the Six Living Victims as well as a brief synopsis of the autopsy on the Poor Dead Girl.

"Ah Christ, this is ****ing sick..." Marcus muttered to himself as he leafed through the file. "You're damn right I'm gonna find this twisted bastard, Parker... Burn him until he's rape-kabob..."


Ruchelle nods with a bow, taking the files with her as necessary to slip out towards the streets. "... what is this... countryside cake you speak of?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah that..." Marcus took a second to gather his thoughts after looking at gruesome details. "The Countryside is a sweet little diner not too far from here. Good people, who make good food. And the cake in question is worth driving the extra mile for. Loath as I am to admit that Drake is right about something, it is hands-down the best cheesecake I've ever had. Although, if you want any, you should probably hold of on looking through the file until after we eat... It ain't pretty."

[Merilan]

"I see," Ruchelle answers quietly. "Madame Frei tends to be fond of such sweets, like cakes and ice cream. I do not understand her preference, but I shall go with you."

[LnGrrrR]

Don looks at the other two passengers, and says, "Hey I love cheesecake too, who doesn't? But I think this is a little more pressing. Marcus you got an address for the murder victim? There's No Time to Waste. The fresher the trail, the better we can track this guy down." Besides, Donald thought to himself, he wanted to see if he was a better diviner than whatever guy they hired. Maybe being there would help trigger something for him.

Donald accelerates, narrowly making it through a yellow light. A Bad Feeling was starting to creep up on him from out of the blue. At least his companions looked like they could handle themselves in a fight.

[gremlin-pult]

Don looks at the other two passengers, and says, "Hey I love cheesecake too, who doesn't? But I think this is a little more pressing. Marcus you got an address for the murder victim? There's No Time to Waste. The fresher the trail, the better we can track this guy down." Besides, Donald thought to himself, he wanted to see if he was a better diviner than whatever guy they hired. Maybe being there would help trigger something for him.

Donald accelerates, narrowly making it through a yellow light. A Bad Feeling was starting to creep up on him from out of the blue. At least his companions looked like they could handle themselves in a fight.

Marcus' brow furrowed at the prospect of further waiting before the delicious cake, but in the end he relents. "Haaah, fine, fine, yer probably right. We don't want this guy running around a second longer than necessary. Especially not considering that he might get even worse if he actually starts using his "gifts" with some thought, or god forbid actually goes through a Rending. We definitely don't want a rapist-sorcerer on our hands."

When Don starts speeding up, Marcus raises one eyebrow, and studies the teen closely. He sure tenses up all of a sudden...
"What's wrong, boy? you scentin' something bad?"

[Merilan]

Ruchelle hums quietly, in thought. "I agree. Let us investigate the home of the murdered victim first. The blood echo will be stronger there, and we do not risk offending an upset victim."

[gremlin-pult]

"The blood echo...?" Marcus looked a bit thoughtful for a moment "So, are you gonna perform actual blood magic? Not that I have a problem with it, but it's a pretty distinctive way of weaving spells. Easily noticable. Can't argue with how powerful and effective it is, though..."
Marcus leaned back, thinking a bit further on the prospect of blood magic. His family had generally stayed away from it, preferring anonymity to the increased power. They weren't above using bodily fluids in spells if the situation called for it, however.
"Huh..." He muttered, as another thought struck him. Pulling out his phone, he clicked his tongue in irritation. "Any of you two have Drake's number? or, uh... Marut and what's-his-faces?"

[Merilan]

"Blood is a common element," answers Ruchelle, "And one vital to life, much like water and air.

And there is much information within your blood. Your modern sciences speak volumes about the health of your body in your blood, through tests. The genetic heritage passed on to you from your ancestors is also etched onto your blood. That is only a fraction of what is written within the Red. Magic gazes deeper into blood than human knowledge currently knows."

A pause. "And we are headed to a potentially empty house, are we not? A crime scene. It is the best time to use blood magic, in privacy."

[LnGrrrR]

"Eh, call it a hunch. I have been trying to listen to myself more often lately. Plus, you know, I think it's pretty natural for someone to be slightly tense when they're trying to hunt down some psychopath raping murdering Harry Potter wannabe!"

Don sighs. "Sorry, but before you go giving me sh*t, I am pretty sure my reaction is the "normal" one. Now where was the murder, exactly? In her home, or somewhere else? We should head to wherever the murder occurred. I can always try to get something of the vibe of the place before she does her... blood magic or whatever."

He continues to check his rear view mirrors as he drives, making sure everything is kosher. His breath is audible to the other passengers, rushing through clenched teeth.

[Merilan]

Ruchelle shuts her eyes for a moment, listening to Donald's breathing. And then quietly affirms, "I will protect you from physical harm, if and when danger comes our way. You have my word."

Given she's the only one carrying a weird sword, and how dead-serious she always is...

[Meriss]

Marcus locates the address of the Poor Dead Girl in the case summary. It takes about fifteen minutes of rather tense driving and Don finds the apartment building. They park the car and enter the lobby to discover this building is Electronically Locked


The lock is one of those buzzer panels. It's a Fair +2 passive challenge.

[LnGrrrR]

Don tries the knob and, finding it locked, curses under his breath.

"Locked," he says to the other two."Anyone have any ideas?" he asks them.

He looks the apartment over to see if a window might have been left open.

[gremlin-pult]

"A few." Marcus said "Why don't you two look around a bit. see if there's maybe a fire escape or a back door we can use, in case this doesn't work."
He then walked over to the buzzer, and pushed the button that would ring the bell in one of the apartments on the top floor.
He proceeded doing this until there was an answer from one of the apartments.
"Afternoon Sir/Ma'am. I'm from the electric company, here to take make a standard examination of the electrical panel in your apartment. You should have gotten a letter about this during the week."


Trickery ahoy! :smallbiggrin:

Rapport check: [roll0]

[Merilan]

Ruchelle watches Marcus leave, then looks to Don. "Mist could pass," Ruchelle murmurs quietly, and then closes her eyes.

She descends into the subconscious of feeling, leaving her material senses. It was much like meditation, except one that brings her closer towards the beat of her heart. The pulsation of blood. The running echo of spirit, twisted and vile within herself. The mark upon her neck, hidden under her high-necked ruffle collar, pulsates wildly as she taps into a little of what Madame Frei has imparted upon her, forcibly or otherwise.

The blood magic runs its course, and she starts to glide forward. When she does so, her form starts to evaporate into not so much solid material as fine particles, billowing as a cloud of mist should. Seeping... slowly, through the electric door to the other side.


[roll0] - Arcana roll (+2 from Invoke)
Invoking Becoming Madame Frei's Thrall as Ruchelle is focusing on the power that has been granted to her, indirectly, through the experience emblemised by Madame Frei's scar upon her neck.
Fate Points: 2 / 3

[gremlin-pult]

As the door unlocked simultaneously with Ruchelle pulling it open from inside, Marcus once more answered with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Oo-k..." He said, a faint tingle of amusement in his voice. "That's also a viable way of getting in. Don't get me wrong, it was really impressive, but..." He gestures vaguely around him at the bright afternoon outside. "You may wanna keep it a bit on the downlow when we're outside. It's your ass in the fire if someone sees it and goes through an insta-rending. And trust me, ya don't want some poor traumatized sod to coach, especially not when you're in the middle of other work. I mean, look at Drake. He had to pull a bunch of looneys like us in since he couldn't both investigate and train aggro-lass at the same time."

[Q'telun]

James sighs and pulls out his phone after racking his brain to remember who Mephisto is. He punches in a number, then holds the phone up to his ear. "Hey Story, it's 36. Put Drake on, I need to ask him a question."

[LnGrrrR]

Donald shrugs at Marcus and Ruchelle, then walks into the room with them. He strides to the bedroom, and is briefly confronted with the memory of his encounter at the party a few weeks ago. He shudders, as something dark and primal claws at the back of his mind.

There has to be a journal somewhere in here, or maybe something she had on at the time of the... No, Donald thought. Let's hope this goes easy. For once.

[Merilan]

"I understand. But I would rather not leave marks of an intrusion where possible," Ruchelle answers, glancing around and already gravitating towards what she perceives is a sense of the blood in the apartment.


Ruchelle is going to investigate the crime scene, making a priority traces of blood and other particular peculiars as noted by Sergeant Styles' case notes.

[roll0] Investigation

[gremlin-pult]

"Point. Not much of a problem for me, so I don't think much about it." Marcus held up his hand, palm outward. the palm and fingertips where riddled with old scars, that at closer inspection clearly had come from burns. " No fingerprints. Courtesy of playing with fire."

He then walked over to the windows, looking for the one that opened out onto the fire escape. Pretty much all apartment buildings had one. And it was always smart to know an extra way out when snooping somewhere one wasn't supposed to be.
"Well, I can safely say I've helped a bit so far. I don't think there's much more right now that's within my area of expertise. I'll watch the door. If I give the signal, go for the fire escape."

[kenmadragon]

"You know, Drake's reasoning in his notes wasn't half bad..." Arthur noted aloud as he read through the various news clippings Drake had managed to find. He aligned them in order of date, making sure to note how much time had passed between each victim.

"Two days after each assault, Johnny posts a personal ad in the classifieds." came the reasoning, as Arthur made the connections. "Almost like clockwork. That can't be a coincidence. So it shouldn't be a stretch that he's picking his victims that way... people who respond to the personal ad, perhaps?"

"But... we can't assume that without talking to the victims. If they answered that personal ad, which drew the fledge's attention..."

[Q'telun]

James holds his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone after apologizing to Drake. "Worth a shot, I guess. The personals give a number to call?"

[Meriss]

"I understand. But I would rather not leave marks of an intrusion where possible," Ruchelle answers, glancing around and already gravitating towards what she perceives is a sense of the blood in the apartment.


For a crime scene there is a surprising lack of blood. Eventually though Ruchelle's keen senses lead her into the bedroom where she finds A Small Pool of Blood from the description of the victim it would be right where... that is to say... well, it happened during the assault.

[Meriss]

Donald shrugs at Marcus and Ruchelle, then walks into the room with them. He strides to the bedroom, and is briefly confronted with the memory of his encounter at the party a few weeks ago. He shudders, as something dark and primal claws at the back of his mind.

There has to be a journal somewhere in here, or maybe something she had on at the time of the... No, Donald thought. Let's hope this goes easy. For once.

The atmosphere in the apartment is filled with fear, shame and rage. As Don traces the emotional current he is drawn towards the bedroom.

The feelings in the bedroom are worse. Far worse. Don wrestles his rising dread and nausea. He discovers there is something wedged between the headboard and the mattress. A Small Cheap Locket likely the kind you would give a little girl. The victim must have had it for years. A woman's screams fill Don's ears as he wiggles it loose. Only to be cut off by a gurgle.

[Merilan]

"It is here," Ruchelle whispers to herself, relying on Don and Marcus to investigate other matters and keep a lookout. They're all in this together, after all. She extends her hand, and takes a deep breath.


The blood. The blood echoes to me...
Tainted blood, blood forcibly disturbed from its rightful vessel...
Oh, how you echo towards your master, now unseated from her place upon the world.
I shall correct this wrongful sin upon your crimson stain.
Now tell me. Tell me of your journey...

When next she opens her eyes, there is a red tinge to the iris of her eyes. She does not see into the material world any longer, her senses far, far removed from them. From the periphery of her vision, she's drawn into what she hopes is a journey into the last moments of the victim... to discern details. To capture a look to this assailant of hers. To capture his visage, his scent, and the echo of his own blood, drawn so tainted...


[roll0] Arcana again. Result is 2 (Fair) total with the invoke below.
Invoking Red as Blood, White as Soul. Ruchelle wants to replay the last moments of the victim, and gather as much detail about the attacker as she can from that replay.

[Meriss]

James holds his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone after apologizing to Drake. "Worth a shot, I guess. The personals give a number to call?"

Drake hollers in James' ear. "Hello! Hello! Sorry. You're on speaker phone. I like your theory 36, but there's a couple problems. One, there's no number in any of the ads, two where'd he find victim number one then? I checked with the paper's office, they don't have anything before the attacks. Was that all you wanted? Make it quick, I gotta talk to some Russians."

[Meriss]

To capture a look to this assailant of hers. To capture his visage, his scent, and the echo of his own blood, drawn so tainted...


Vision becomes abstract. There is a ripple in front of Ruchelle which forms into a ghostly figure. The Poor Dead Girl. But Ruche is Bloodied in Spirit and what should be a helpful spirit is now a raging pain fueled specter.

But the words have been spoken. The ritual completed. The specter must comply. It lays down on the bed and another darker shade joins it. "Hey there, pretty bird." coos the night black shade. "My name is Johnny. You have a lovely nest, may I join you tonight?"

The female specter screams in the face of the shade. The shade pins the specter down. There is a sudden violent motion from its pelvic area. All the while the specter screams. Finally the shade is wraps a single hand around the specter's throat. The scream becomes a gurgle, which then becomes a death rattle.

The shade rises to face Ruche. There is no face only Burning Red Eyes and a Monstrous Grin. The wicked grin parts and a Bestial Roar leaves the shade's mouth. The shade vanishes, replaced by the specter. The specter looks at Ruche with dead eyes, pleading for justice. Then fades.

[Q'telun]

Drake hollers in James' ear. "Hello! Hello! Sorry. You're on speaker phone. I like your theory 36, but there's a couple problems. One, there's no number in any of the ads, two where'd he find victim number one then? I checked with the paper's office, they don't have anything before the attacks. Was that all you wanted? Make it quick, I gotta talk to some Russians."

"Oh, not me, that was Marut's idea. I was calling because I was going to go have a talk with Mephisto, so I need a general territory to go... talk."

[Meriss]

"Oh, not me, that was Marut's idea. I was calling because I was going to go have a talk with Mephisto, so I need a general territory to go... talk."

The silence on the other end is long enough for James to consider hanging up and calling back. Finally Drake speaks.

"What? Why? Don't you ...? Merde! You don't know. Listen to me carefully, both of you. Mephisto is a mage. Umbramancer to be exact, shadow magic. So's his whole gang. Mephisto is convinced that the best way to operate is do whatever he wants and hang the consequences. Right now he's not too dangerous, but he wants to get his hands on our boy. We have to Catch This Guy first."

Drake pauses. "Ah, merde. The Russians would pick today to show up early. Don't go anywhere near Mephisto. Tell the 426s to stay out of his turf, too. I don't need another bunch of magically active ... whatever it is you want call your pals. Get me? Hang up Story, we gotta go."

There is a click as Story hangs up.

[Merilan]

Ruche steps back as she works through the vision, with a quiet, snarled low hiss. A faceless spectre, burning red eyes... a bestial grin and a howl. A target truly worthy of a hunt. She shakes her head for a moment, and then looks to Don to ask, "... are you all right?"

[Q'telun]

James is left staring at the phone. "Well, so much for that lead. Marut, you see any pattern in those seven poems? Any kind of message in there?"

A look of understanding flashes across James's face after he says that. He laughs. "I'm going out for a bit, if Drake asks, I went to get some food or something." He heads out through the doors, whistling as he heads for familiar territory in search of shadows.

[Meriss]

As Don steadies Ruche, he glances briefly at the locket. Suddenly the Bad Feeling he's been having explodes into a vision. Sadly his is in full color, surround sound. Don sees everything. Everything.

The writhing woman on the bed, the lithe male figure on top of her. The screaming. Dear God, the screaming.

Finally, just before Don is ready to rip his eyes out, he too sees the male figure rising from the bed. Those same Burning Red Eyes. That horrible faceless Monstrous Grin.

Mercifully the vision ends.

[Meriss]

A look of understanding flashes across James's face after he says that. He laughs. "I'm going out for a bit, if Drake asks, I went to get some food or something." He heads out through the doors, whistling as he heads for familiar territory in search of shadows.

James makes his way down to a particularly contested section of the city. Just last week elder brother was saying that Mephisto and his Demons were harassing a small laundry for protection. Since these people had not paid their dues elder brother has ignored their pleas.

But it makes for wonderful Demon hunting. James spots one of the bikers in the usual red leather jacket, he's just about to leave.

[Q'telun]

James speeds up a little to catch the Demon before he gets away. "Hey you! I got a proposition for Mephisto. Tell me where he is."

[Meriss]

James speeds up a little to catch the Demon before he gets away. "Hey you! I got a proposition for Mephisto. Tell me where he is."

The thug spins on his heels and growls back at James. "Who the **** do you think you are, ya chink bastard? I ain't telling you squat. Go pedal your bike some place else!"


Just a nameless thug. A bit of roughing up or trickery should get you what you need. Anything above average should do it. He did not in fact spot the gun.

[Q'telun]

James closes the last of the distance protecting the thug from him and draws, bringing his knife up to the thug's throat as he presses the unfortunate man down into an alley. "Lets try that again. And this time, if you call me a chink, I cut your tongue out and feed it to a crow. Mephisto. Where."

[Meriss]

James closes the last of the distance protecting the thug from him and draws, bringing his knife up to the thug's throat as he presses the unfortunate man down into an alley. "Lets try that again. And this time, if you call me a chink, I cut your tongue out and feed it to a crow. Mephisto. Where."

It's always been odd to James that Western criminals don't seem to fear a gun. But put a knife to their throat and watch the fear settle right in. The thug's hands fly upwards in surrender. "Jesus, man, I didn't mean anything by it. Don't cut me. Uhhh, he's over at the club house. Down on Sycamore. **** c'mon man. Put the knife away..."

[Q'telun]

"Was that so hard? Now run. And don't come back to this part of town." James pushes the thug away and waits until he's out of sight before he turns and heads for the clubhouse.

[Meriss]

"Was that so hard? Now run. And don't come back to this part of town." James pushes the thug away and waits until he's out of sight before he turns and heads for the clubhouse.

James finds the biker's clubhouse without too much difficulty. It's a beat up old two level garage. The smell of exhaust fumes and the roar of motorcycles is a dead giveaway. James spots seven or eight bangers in the garage itself. That seems risky. Maybe there's a quieter way?


You can attack the bikers. They're mostly Fair NPCs. No mages that you can see. Or roll Average or better on Investigation to find a back door. Or think of something else.

[LnGrrrR]

Donald looks at the locket. Pretty girl, he thinks to himself. He looks over at Ruchelle, who is staring off into space, and some part of him sounds an alarm. Something isn't right.

"Ruchelle? Hey, you there? What's u.." As he places his hand gently on Ruchelle's shoulder, a swarm of intense visions hit him like tidal waves. A rapist. A murderer. A monster. A bestial grin and eyes...

"Holy sh*t! What the f*ck was that? How did I even see that? Was it something you did?" As Ruchelle tries to answer his mostly rhetorical questions, he ignores her answers and begins to pull her away from the scene. He feverishly fumbles in his pockets for his cards, trying to get something about this guy, anything. Maybe a warning, or at least an idea of where NOT to be in the near future.

He closes his eyes and strains again... And nothing! F*cking nothing! Just a cloudy haze and swirls of the images he has already seen. Don knew what that meant: danger. For him. And probably in the near future. Why the hell did he sign up for this? This was way past his capabilities.

"Ruch! We have to move it! We are not safe here! This guy could strike at any time, and I do NOT want to meet him here and now! Move your pale vampiric ass out the door!" He turns his head towards the door, fishes around in his pocket and produces his keys. "Marcus! Start the car! We are leaving NOW!"

[Merilan]

Ruchelle's concentration is faintly disturbed when Don starts shouting, and it takes her a moment to catch up and realise what he's just seen. She doesn't move, contrary to what he's shouting, and similarly his words wash over her still-clouded senses attuned to the echoes of blood and spirit.

"... there will be justice," she murmurs in a quiet, almost fervent tone, the kind of tone one would take at a funeral, speaking to the dearly departed. "Of that, you have my word, spirit."

But she isn't done yet. It isn't sufficient to simply witness the scene. She needs more details.

Could Ruchelle possibly trail the sensation she captured from the vision into a trace of some sort? The blood trail stops here, but the echo of spirit continues, beyond the trail of physical, mortal trails. This... 'Johnny'. His characteristics are as blatant as day itself. The burning red eyes. The maniacal grin.

The Croatian huntress focuses on those details, closing her eyes once more. She tries to walk the path of purity, next, to point her in the direction of the hunt. Unlike the echo of blood, the whisper of spirit is subtle and permeating, connecting the living in ways that mortals do not. She trusts her comrades to also glean other paths towards their prey. Here, she will contribute her part.


[roll0] - Ruche wants to focus on Johnny's most fervent details to try to point her towards the next destination.

[LnGrrrR]

Don sees that Ruchelle is off in her own little world. He shakes her shoulders while shouting, "Ruch! RUCHELLE! What is going on with you? Are you in some sort of trance? WAKE UP!

"Marcus, have you started the car already or what? Let's get our asses in gear people!"

[Q'telun]

James opts to circle around the back and look for a back door, not looking to fight 8 people all at once. That would be idiotic.

[roll0]

[kenmadragon]

"Man... This guy is a terrible poet..." Arthur mused to himself while the earth mage spoke on the phone a few feet away. Shifting through the papers, Arthur frowned with great distaste at the poor choice of wording and forced rhyme scheme that kept the flow of the reading incredibly choppy. At Thirty-Six's question, Arthur merely shrugged. He hadn't found anything yet, beyond terrible literature. Why someone would post these in a personal ad was beyond Arthur's understanding - most of those ads charged by the letter. So, while the poems themselves could indeed have relevance, their sheer tactlessness could also be attributed to a lack of funds.

"I mean, really. A falcon soaring over a mouse? Really? How cliche, don't you think, Thirty-Six?" Arthur shook his head, almost laughing as he looked up at the other man. And found that he was alone in the warehouse. Standing up, Arthur looked around, calling out for an answer. "Thirty-Six?"

With no response, Arthur shook his head and sat back down. "Man, that guy's got a light step. Guess I'll get back to code-cracking. Again."

So, I'm going to assume that we'd use Lore to analyze the poetry for clues, or something... Hopefully I don't do too poorly... [roll0]

[Meriss]

The Croatian huntress focuses on those details, closing her eyes once more. She tries to walk the path of purity, next, to point her in the direction of the hunt. Unlike the echo of blood, the whisper of spirit is subtle and permeating, connecting the living in ways that mortals do not. She trusts her comrades to also glean other paths towards their prey. Here, she will contribute her part.

Ruche gets a sense of Johnny's taste in women; young, well educated, blonde. But as she extracts her senses from the spirit world she gets something else she wasn't expecting. Hunger, maybe it's Johnny and maybe it's her own tiredness catching up to her. But she's A Little Blood Hungry now. In fact Don looks quite ... tasty ... doesn't he?

[Meriss]

Don sees that Ruchelle is off in her own little world. He shakes her shoulders while shouting, "Ruch! RUCHELLE! What is going on with you? Are you in some sort of trance? WAKE UP!

"Marcus, have you started the car already or what? Let's get our asses in gear people!"

Don has obviously had a rough day. His new found powers are playing havoc with his psyche. Now he's more than a little bit Freaked Out. Why wouldn't these people move? That monster could be busting through the door any second now.

[gremlin-pult]

o-k. That's it.
Marcus was about to start the car like the whining teenager said, but decided against it. Instead he walked over, thus blocking Don's access to the car. With no warning and no expression on his face, he raised his hand and gave Don a resounding slap across the cheek.
"Shut up." He said, his voice flat. As soon as Don opened his mouth to retort, Marcus gave him another slap, this one not quite as painful, but no less shaming.
"I said shut up. You're panicking. I get that you and Ru saw something weird. That's fine. But I didn't." He continued, his voice turning cold. "I can imagine that it was something horrible, but you flailing around like an epileptic squirrel ain't gonna solve squat. That kinda thing only causes trouble, get's people hurt. or worse."
He took a step closer to Don, their noses almost close enough to touch. "And I don't intend to get hurt. We will get out of here. Calmly. We will catch this sonnuva bitch. Carefully." Marcus' voice was a low hiss now, and he employed a little trick he'd picked up with his wildfire over the years. Without any flames actually manifesting, his breath got hotter and started looking and smelling like smoke. His voice took on a rumbling, grating tone, like half-molten rocks grinding together. But the most intimidating thing was his eyes, that only Don could currently see. They were glowing faintly, as if small but intense flames were burning behind his eyeballs.
"So get in the car. Take a deep breath. And then. Get. Your head. The ****. Together!"
Marcus had yet to meet anyone outside the family who did not listen very, very carefully when he was using his demon-voice.

[Meriss]

James opts to circle around the back and look for a back door, not looking to fight 8 people all at once. That would be idiotic.


James finds the back door without too much difficulty. As he inches around the side of the building he notices a burly Demon guarding the back door. Now what?


Average NPC, Average Physique. Though he doesn't look very bright.

[Meriss]

With no response, Arthur shook his head and sat back down. "Man, that guy's got a light step. Guess I'll get back to code-cracking. Again."


Arthur doesn't notice any specific patterns in the poetry. It's simple doggerel verse. In fact it's so simple Arthur guesses that the writer doesn't have any education beyond high school.

But on the second poem near the edge, someone presumably Drake, has written "Timing?" Thinking about the timing Arthur notes that Johnny is posting these ads not two days after the attacks but a day and a night after. Which means he's ritualizing. Which is bad; very, very, bad. Thinking back on his own Training by Spirits Arthur recalls that the fae were very insistent on rituals. It wasn't until years later that Arthur realized all fledglings developed some sort of ritual to help them contain and control their power.


I'm invoking the Aspect, to give you extra details, have a FATE point.

[LnGrrrR]

Donald clenched his fists, about to say something to Marcus, when his face... changed. Something about him said that it was best to listen, and listen closely. So Donald did. He listened, and took a deep breath, then another.

"Ok. Ok. But seriously, I don't want you guys going all Billy Badass and taking this guy for granted. He's twisted. We need to nail him."

He grabbed the keys from Marcus, and walked out to his car, starting it. He didn't mean to blow up like that back there, but this was way out of the norm for him. I guess it's a good thing the others seem to have dealt with stuff like this before.

Again he wondered to himself, what was he getting himself into with these people? He nervously played with the radio, then pulled out the tarot cards. He studied their patterns, relaxing his mind, and tried his best to wait patiently for the others.

[gremlin-pult]

"I read the file, kid." Marcus said, his voice softening now that he'd achieved his goal of calming Don down. A twinge of pain went through his head. Dammit, I always get a headache when doing the Face after a while. Can't let it get rusty...

"Of course we're not gonna go after him without a strategy. I may not have gone through the whole medium-esque thing you two just did, but the papers told me plenty about hwo dangerous this creep might be. We go back and meet up with the others now. Make a plan." He continued as he sat down beside Don in the car. After a moments consideration, he added. "But we're still getting that cake on the way. You two need it, to calm down a bit and get yer mind of what you saw for a bit. I need it because reasons."

[Merilan]

Ruchelle blinks a few times as Don shakes her shoulders, and for the first time today there's a quiet snarl from her lips where there was no emotion. But she pauses, reeling it in... even if she could sense the blood coursing through the boy. This is not what Madame Frei would want, and she knows that.

And her admiration is worth more than any amount of hunger.

"We received what we needed here," she tersely says as she watches Marcus reassure Don in... his own way.

These two are strange, she must admit. This was what she didn't like about the living world, over the world of spirits. So much -- emotion, racing and coursing around; expletives being thrown everywhere, anger and frustration running amok. She doesn't understand the two, yet. In the past, she would have just receded to play with her spirits... but now that the spirits she sees are torn and angered with blood -- that was not so much an option anymore.

[Q'telun]

James breathes in, then turns the tap up, sending a whiff of power through the ground. Footsteps leading the guard away from the door should do the trick.

Arcana Roll: [roll0]

[Meriss]

James breathes in, then turns the tap up, sending a whiff of power through the ground. Footsteps leading the guard away from the door should do the trick.


The guard frowns at the noise and lumbers off in that direction.

[Q'telun]

James uses this opportunity to casually stroll into the hideout, knife ready and waiting.

[kenmadragon]

Galzing over Drake's notes, Arthur realized that he was getting nowhere with the poems. Instead, he decided he might as well read what Drake thought, and see if the other mage had some ideas. The word "timing" stuck out though.

Frowning, Arthur rechecked the dates and times at which the ads were posted, then compared them to the times and places of the attacks. There was indeed a correlation, but it wasn't two days like everyone else had thought. It was a day and a night - a critical difference in timing between attack and poem.

This was a ritual.

"Oh ****." Arthur swore under his breath as he scrambled out of his chair. Rushing to a clear corner of the warehouse, Arthur brushed aside some dust and clutter from a portion of the floor and pulled out a small box of chalk. Taking a piece, the wizard began to draw on the floor, creating a small circle within which were intricate diagrams and markings and precise positions.

After several minutes of painstaking work, the circle was complete and Arthur infused it with power, sprinkling the remains of the sandwiches onto the ground within the circle as bait. Muttering the incantation under his breath, Arthur closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His words carried upon the wind, and the lure was set, to draw the fae to him so he might ask their questions.

Let's roll that Arcana. [roll0]

[Meriss]

James uses this opportunity to casually stroll into the hideout, knife ready and waiting.

James sneaks his way up the stairs into a dimly lit pool room. Which is oddly deserted. Weird.

Taking advantage of the quiet James slinks towards the door with the flashing lights underneath. He eases the door open looking for Mephisto. He is greeted with a soft click by his head. Guess he found someone.

"See boss, I told ja there was someone looking for you."

The same voice from the alley. James is brought into the room to see a well appointed TV room. Filled with seven men, in the middle of the room there is an over stuffed leather easy chair. Sitting in the chair is a well built man wearing his red leather jacket like a cape. His shaved head is oddly tattooed with horns.

"So you did, Reg. We'll talk about you giving up our club house later." Mephisto's voice is like a silk glove on a steel hand. The thug winces.

"So, mister. I think I know who sent you. Any last words that I can send to Red Pole with your pieces?"

This isn't a Fight, it's an Execution


What? I've got a weakness for the classics. FYI Mephisto is one aspect off a full PC. His buddies are all Fair NPCs

[Meriss]

After several minutes of painstaking work, the circle was complete and Arthur infused it with power, sprinkling the remains of the sandwiches onto the ground within the circle as bait. Muttering the incantation under his breath, Arthur closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His words carried upon the wind, and the lure was set, to draw the fae to him so he might ask their questions.



For a moment all is quiet and Arthur is sure he's missed the intonation or something. He's just about to erase the circle and start over when there's a sudden explosion of noise in the center of the circle.

"Hey! Mine! No! Mine! No! Mine!"

The squabble in center of circle dies down revealing a slyph and pixie. They have torn the remains of the sandwiches in half and seem to be munching happily. Every now and then one of them hisses at the other.

[Q'telun]

"Close, but wrong. Not here on Triad business. I'm here looking to Make a Deal." James grins, bold and cocky even here, outgunned and surrounded.

"See, I got called in on this wild goose chase, looking for some dumb fledge. Your names gets dropped, and my employer gets his panties in a knot about you. I figure thats a guy I gotta meet. Now, you don't look stupid, so I figure you know something we don't. Right?"

[Meriss]

"See, I got called in on this wild goose chase, looking for some dumb fledge. Your names gets dropped, and my employer gets his panties in a knot about you. I figure thats a guy I gotta meet. Now, you don't look stupid, so I figure you know something we don't. Right?"

Mephisto smiles and a chuckle forms in his throat. "Reggie, beat it. The big kids are talking."

"But boss..."

"I said beat it, Reggie! Go keep Tiny company down at the door. I'll talk to you both later." Mephisto is clearly large and in charge.

"Yes, boss."

The thug exits the room. Mephisto smiles at James again. "There's only one fledge in the city worth talking about so I'm guessing you're employer is Drake. Boy, the sheriff done sunk low. So, what is it you think I know that the cowboy ain't telling you?"

[Q'telun]

"I figure you know how to find him when he's done with the rending. If I'd known about him before, I would've made sure to figure that out first. He'd be a good asset for any team, almost perfect cloaking, lack of morals, and a willingness to kill." James leans against the metal door frame, not breaking eye contact with Mephisto. "But you can't find him right now, can you? You're in the dark about his movements, what he's doing, and why he's doing it."



Arcana roll: Leeching the strength in the doorframe to reinforce James's clothing against bullets.

[roll0]

[Meriss]

"I figure you know how to find him when he's done with the rending. If I'd known about him before, I would've made sure to figure that out first. He'd be a good asset for any team, almost perfect cloaking, lack of morals, and a willingness to kill." James leans against the metal door frame, not breaking eye contact with Mephisto. "But you can't find him right now, can you? You're in the dark about his movements, what he's doing, and why he's doing it."


Mephisto smiles again. "I can feel what you're doin', you know? I've been fighting mages for a while now. Two can play that game." Mephisto's hands move in a strange pattern and the entire room is suddenly filled with Living Shadows.

He relaxes slightly. "But you don't get it. Do you? And if you don't get it, that means Drake is way off. Sheriff's getting sloppy in his old age. Do you know how many diviners, soothsayers and tea readers Drake has asked about our boy? All of them, every single one in the whole city. And you know what they found? Nothing."

Mephisto lets that linger. "Which means he's not cloaking almost perfectly. He's telling the world he doesn't mother****ing exist. And it's listening. That takes power like no one has seen in years. I'd bet decades. That means our boy is a prime fledgling. He's going to hit this city like a bomb. Then we all can take whatever we want. That's what I want. Power, plain pure and simple."

[Q'telun]

"No, I got that. Our resident diviner couldn't get anything, and he claims to be pretty good. But what happens when Drake finds him? Because he will. The other mages he hired are motivated and talented, with the same set of morals that Drake has. All that power gets locked away for good, never to be put to use." James doesn't move from his leaning position.

[Meriss]

"No, I got that. Our resident diviner couldn't get anything, and he claims to be pretty good. But what happens when Drake finds him? Because he will. The other mages he hired are motivated and talented, with the same set of morals that Drake has. All that power gets locked away for good, never to be put to use." James doesn't move from his leaning position.

Mephisto frowns. "Yeah, Drake always was good at getting other people to do his dirty work. So That's the Deal, is it? You help Drake's team find our boy, then you double cross them and bring him to us? Buster, I like you. You got my Flexible Morals."

[Q'telun]

"Yeah. I get whatever information you've got on this guy, and access to him at a discount. Deal?"

Rapport: [roll0]

[Meriss]

"Yeah. I get whatever information you've got on this guy, and access to him at a discount. Deal?"


Mephisto's frown deepens. "Not really sure I trust someone who can turn on their own team that fast. But, it gives me another dog in the fight. Far as we've been able to tell, he's got himself Burning Red Eyes and with his first kill A Taste for Blood. I've ran with guys like him before and chances are he's Stalking his Prey before the act. That's how guys like him get off. Like I said, he's got enough power to where it's like he don't exist. So that's about what anybody has. You want to talk some more or is that it?"

[Meriss]

After a moments consideration, he added. "But we're still getting that cake on the way. You two need it, to calm down a bit and get yer mind of what you saw for a bit. I need it because reasons."

After a series of increasingly complicated directions from San Francisco's newest pyromancer Don is able to locate the Countryside Diner.

Within minutes Marcus is able to negotiate the purchase of an entire cheesecake from the waitress. The tasty treat is packed safely in the back seat by Ruche.

As the group enters the warehouse they spot Arthur kneeling in a corner, apparently talking to the floor?

[gremlin-pult]

After a series of increasingly complicated directions from San Francisco's newest pyromancer Don is able to locate the Countryside Diner.

Within minutes Marcus is able to negotiate the purchase of an entire cheesecake from the waitress. The tasty treat is packed safely in the back seat by Ruche.

As the group enters the warehouse they spot Arthur kneeling in a corner, apparently talking to the floor?

"Huh, that's new." Marcus observed, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Yo, bookworm! We got some freaky-deaky intel, and some cake. Stop flirting with the floorboards and get yer ass to the table." He said loudly, then walked over to the afore mentioned table. "where the hell's Drake? I have a thought about this psycho I wanna bounce of him. You guys too, I guess."

[LnGrrrR]

Don gets out of the car, trying to calm down his nerves. He sees Arthur on he floor and his curiosity kicks in. He moves over to the other mage and watches over his shoulder, taking mental note of all the items spread out over the floor. He has a hunch that he shouldn't interrupt, so he watches silently.

After Marcus's question, he looks up and surveys the room, saying, "Hey, that other guy is missing too."

[Q'telun]

"Thats it. Thanks for the information." James turns to leave. "I'll get in touch with you when I have him."

With that, James leaves for the warehouse, shooting 'Reg' a glare as he passes him.

[Merilan]

Ruchelle glances back and forth, before shutting her eyes to answer, "That Earth Mage is probably on his own hunt."

She merely walks towards one of the windows that doesn't cast a lot of sun, peering out towards... well, whatever it is she tends to peer at.

[Meriss]

"Thats it. Thanks for the information." James turns to leave. "I'll get in touch with you when I have him."

With that, James leaves for the warehouse, shooting 'Reg' a glare as he passes him.

Reg flinches from James' glare.

As James enters the warehouse he notices his team gathered around one of the tables. With what looks like a cheesecake. What's going on?

[gremlin-pult]

"Oh good, you're back." Marcus said as he spotted James entering the warehouse. "Do YOU have any idea where Drake is? I mean, the guy's been gone for a good while now. Kinda bad form, considering this is his little shindig."
He continued, inbetween mouthfuls of cake. He was visibly enjoying it.
"Anyway, what'cha been doin'? If my two little psychic birds here are to be believed, they encountered some major freaky vibes in the dead girls apartment. And I think that our magical creep might be more than just a strong fledge."

[Q'telun]

"Chasing down a lead. Turned out to be useless, only confirmed what we already know." James snags a slice of cheesecake before its all gone. "Drake is off talking to russians."

[gremlin-pult]

"Oh? Well screw him for now, then. I'll just hear what you guys think of my little stray thought." Marcus said with a shrug. Turning slightly, he motioned towards Ruchelle. "It's something I thought about when we were at the apartment. See, Ru here did a little magic involving blood. Not important in itself, but it got me thinkin'. It's pretty standard fare that blood can be used to strengthen magic. And it's especially effective if you want to gain control over someone, or siphon energy of them. But to do that, you need to get the blood in them..." Marcus paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. He knew that what he said next wouldn't sound nice, no matter how he said it, though. "See, what I'm thinking is, blood ain't the only fluid from your body that can be used for that kinda magic. It's effective because blood is a source of life..."

He paused again, looking profoundly uncomfortable. He knew they were probably getting his drift by now. At least he probably didn't have to spell it out for them.
"Dammit... Look, I know what I'm implying is horrible, but it's not a possibility we can afford to ignore. I really hope I'm wrong. But this guy might be unconsciously making himself stronger with every girl he leaves his mark on. Or even worse, he might be fully aware of what he's doing, which would make him much more dangerous than a simple fledge. I really, really hope you guys can disprove my theory. But it's possible. Terrifying and disgusting, but possible."

[kenmadragon]

Arthur smirked as the sylph and the pixie squabbled and glared at each other while munching on the torn remains of rye bread crust. While most fae and spirits got along famously, pixies and sylphs were always competitive with the other. Given their similar natures, yet few innate differences, the two races of creatures constantly squabbled for territory and sometimes food, making things tenuous when one was near the border of two territories, like Arthur now realized he was. Well, they were petty disputes, really, but a good deal annoying, nevertheless. To be honest, the fairy trap was only meant for one, but given both had rushed in at once, Arthur had caught two for the price of one. Good thing he hadn't used pizza for bait - last time he'd tried that, Arthur had gotten close to a dozen spirits trapped at once.

Arthur waited for the two to finish eating and realize exactly where they were. It always took a while for them to do that. Once the two had finished eating (the pixie let out a belch which elicited a giggle from the sylph), the spirits paced around the magic circle, eyeing each other.

"I thought I told you this was MY turf!"

"No, it's MINE!"

Arthur rolled his eyes as the sylph and pixie backed up, not taking their eyes off each other. And promptly collided with the invisible barrier of the magic circle which confined them, as they fell on their tushies.

"Hey, what gives?" the sylph complained as the two finally took notice of where they were. The pixie gulped as she followed the tracing of the chalk on the ground, and stared at the crumbs, knowing the sylph opposite her had come to the same realization. They were both trapped.

Smiling, Arthur knelt into a low crouch to get a better look at the two of them, clearing his throat politely to get their attention.

"Mortal!" the pixie proclaimed magnanimously, wheeling upon Arthur with a tiny fist. "I demand you release me from this circle at once! Do it now, or I will smite you down with my fairy magic! I could incinerate you in the fires of a thousand suns with a single finger, and visit ruin upon your family for generations!" Then as an afterthought, "You can keep the sylph, though."

"Hey!" the sylph stomped her foot angrily. The pixie merely stuck her tongue out in response.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the impudent pixie who finally recognized the man kneeling to talk to her. The little creature's eyes went wide and and the pixie quickly began primping, trying to get the crumbs off her little dress and straighten her hair while the sylph next to her sighed dreamily.

"Yeah, that's not happening. Now, haven't any of the older spirits ever told you two about racing for food and falling for traps so easily? What if I were some bad mage who wasn't going to eventually let you go, hmn?" Arthur admonished. The sylph and pixie looked bashful, embarrassed by their mistake.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, you're Tena's friend, Pilvi, yes?" Arthur addressed the sylph with blue hair, who nodded vigorously sending the cascading locks bouncing. "And you're Gelsey the pixie, right?" Arthur smiled as the pixie nodded to the affirmative.

"Good!" Arthur clapped his hands together, knowing he'd found two of the local chatterboxes. "Now, you know the drill. You tell me what I want to know, and when I'm satisfied, I'll let you both out, okay?" Pilvi and Gelsey both nodded.

"Molto Bene. Now, I need everything you've got on that nasty fledge that's been in town of late. He's doing horrible things, and I'm trying to catch him so he doesn't hurt anybody, okay?" Arthur explained. A look of worry crossed both the spirits' faces.

"We know about the fledge - lots of the other sylphs and brownies are talking about the monster." Pilvi admitted, shuddering slightly.

"Most of us were told not to go anywhere near it." explained Gelsey. "The older faeries might know more about that horrid fledge, but we all try to stay far away from that abomination."

"Well," Arthur sighed. "I need to know what everyone is saying. From what I've found out, this fledge has begun some sort of faerie ritual. After every...." the wizard struggled to find the right word that wouldn't freak out the two little spirits more than they already were by this topic. "...attack, the fledge seems to be waiting a day and a night before putting out a poem in the newspaper. A poem about predator birds, in the middle of a hunt. Simple poems, but timed precisely for a day and a night after every time he strikes at a poor innocent woman. One of them was killed, and I need to know more so I can help stop him."

"Well, we haven't seen that beast, if that's what you're trying to ask!" Gelsey shouted angrily. Arthur held his hands up in peace.

"No, I just need to know what you can tell me about these rituals. He's using it to control his power, but I need more than that. It's just... I have to find this fledge before he can kill another innocent woman again." Arthur explained.

"Oh, well, I heard from some of the others that... MEEP!" Pilvi began for exclaiming in surprise, the two turning to see other people walking into the warehouse. Each suddenly began to shimmer, and Arthur knew that the others wouldn't be able to see them. A very shy lot, fairies and spirits were. Were it not for Arthur's own life among them, he would not have seen them either, unless the spirits wished for him to see them. But their glamours held no sway to Arthur, and the wizard was quite annoyed at the interruption.

"You were saying?" Arthur tried to press the spirits to continue, but they were hesitant to talk to him while there were other mortals around. "Oh, come now, surely you two beautiful spirits have nothing to be afraid of with those folks?"

When the spirits wouldn't continue, Arthur ignored the others' comments and shouted at them over his shoulder, "Hey, you lot. Shut up, and give us some privacy, okay? I'm in the middle of a conversation with two lovely little ladies right here, so, if you don't mind? I need to speak to them alone, please."

When the others finally moved away a little and quieted enough for the spirits to be comfortable, Arthur smiled. "There. Hopefully they'll leave us alone for a little while. Now, you were saying?"

Rolling Contacts... [roll0]

[LnGrrrR]

Donald was looking back at Arthur, wondering why he was talking to... well, no one, when he heard Marcus's theory and made a disgusted face.

"Given what I saw, I wouldn't put it past him. There's a reason I am not eating the cheesecake. Hard to have an appetite after that."

"James, did you find anything out? We didn't really learn all that much, other than he's an evil rapist murderer. Which we pretty much knew beforehand. We need to find this guy fast." Don's eyes went wide as he remembered the vision he had, and he visibly gulped.

Don kept his eyes on James and waited for his response.

[Q'telun]

"Who the hell is James?"

[Meriss]

When the others finally moved away a little and quieted enough for the spirits to be comfortable, Arthur smiled. "There. Hopefully they'll leave us alone for a little while. Now, you were saying?"



Gelsey glanced over at the slyph. "I was saying that we were told to stay far, far away from that monster."

Pilvi nodded emphatically "Yeah! But if it's just a ritual that should be safe, right?" The pixie shrugged.

The pixie broke in, "Okay remind me, the monster hurt six girls?"

"Seven!" Arthur nods in agreement with the slyph.

"Right. And he's attacking every week, right?"

The mage nods again.

"Do you know about his teeth?"

"His what?"

"His teeth!" The pixie opens her tiny mouth wide and Arthur sees miniscule carnivorous teeth. He always forgot that pixies were hunters by nature. She shuts her mouth with a quick snap. "Like mine but way bigger and more of them! Like those animals that live in the ocean that the undines are always trying to tell us about, you know what I mean? What are they called again?"

"Shocks?" Supplies the slyph helpfully.

"Yeah! His teeth are like shocks!"

This was news to Arthur.

"If you put it all together it sounds like nesting or hatching ritual."

"Right! But they're all dead, I mean the mortals and mages killed them all, right?"

"Um, I hope so?"

"So the monster thinks he's nesting or hatching something. Probably himself. Can we go now? I mean we helped, right?"

[gremlin-pult]

Curious as he was by nature, and mildly affronted that mr. Librarian had sent them away like noisy kids, Marcus did his best to eavesdrop on his conversation with the spirits. He may not be very attuned to wind creatures, but he still had good ears.
Sadly he could only catch snippets, and most of it sounded like typical fairy bickering. This was something that held true no matter which kind of spirit you dealt with. They were annoying. With a sigh Marcus tried to put together what they had so far.
A ritual? That would fit together with the empowering he may or may not be doing through the rapes... Hmm, domination, self-transformation... ****, that's some real dark magic right there! But maybe... Maybe I've heard of something like it from back home. Lord knows the old man trafficked with all kinds of scary weirdoes...



[roll0]

I know there's something I'm missing! This all seems so familiar, if I could just... Dammit!
Marcus groaned in frustration. He was so close to the answer, he could almost feel it. After a moment he let out an annoyed sigh. The train of thought had been derailed. ​Ah well, the other's will probably figure it out...

[Q'telun]

'Hmmm, shark teeth, from the ocean, hatching... from the watery depths?' James focuses his keen intellect on the problem.

Got no applicable aspects to tag, so!

[roll0]

No schooling, no nothing he had ever learned about sounded like this.

[Merilan]

Ruchelle is still staring at the window, seemingly idle and inanimate... but it doesn't mean she isn't listening.

The blood-red eyes, the transformations, the thirst for blood... the domination. Certainly those would fit the profile of a vampire, but there was something different here.

[roll0] Arcana +2, +2 from invoke. I'm thinking I'll invoke Little Blood Hungry since it's faintly appropriate here - think as the perpetrator would.

[LnGrrrR]

Don looks around the room, staring at those around the table. "Well? Anything? Are we just going to sit around and wait until he kills another victim?" Don can hear the nervous tenor in his voice, but he can't help it. He looks at the door subconsciously, wondering if the killer is going to walk through it in another moment.

He shakes his head, and suddenly his mood shifts angrily. He takes out his tarot cards and throws them to the ground where they explode into colorful birds, flittering up into the air then gliding downwards on the wind. "What good are these? What good am I? I can't even get a hint of where this bastard is! Arrr!" Don lets out a cry of anguish, and storms off, walking towards the direction of some various odds and ends in the far part of the warehouse.

[gremlin-pult]

"Would ya just ****ing chillax fer a second?" Marcus said to Don, keeping his voice low so as to not disturb the prissy librarian again. Annoyance was evident in his voice however, as he kept a tight rein on his mounting frustration. "Don't beat yerself up. Pretty much everyone here has more experience with weird mumbo jumbo than you, and we're drawing blanks too. You can't expect everything to go smoothly on your first real encounter with dark magic. Besides, we do have some leads. Think about it. He's attacked seven girls. Only one was killed. Why only one? And if the theory of him drawing strength from them is real, might not be done with them yet. We've just been assuming that he'll attack a new victim soon, not go for one of the old ones. But since he broke his pattern by killing one, we can't expect him to hold to the pattern anymore. The last girl he attacked was killed. What if he's gonna finish the others, in the reverse order of his rapes? that would fit into the idea of it being a ritual of some sort..."
He paused for a moment, then scratched his chin, his brow furrowing in frustration.
"Anyway, just don't get too riled up. You WILL be useless to us if you panic and don't think. Besides, I''m supposed to be the one with temper issues. You're the, uh... The upbeat teenage sidekick or somethin'. You and aggro-lass, whenever Drake sees fit to return with her."

[LnGrrrR]

Don turns back to Marcus, eyes watery, and stares hard into him. "Take it easy? TAKE IT EASY? How am I supposed to just shrug off what this guy is doing to people? It makes me physically ill. Hell, a few months ago I was just some dumb junior in high school, worried about which college I was going to go to. No, that's a lie; I was more worried about whether I would find someone to take to the prom and if I could even afford a tux for it. And now, I've got to worry about some monstrous raping serial killer. I'm still that same kid! I didn't gain some insight into the way the universe works. I'm still dumb! You guys with your magic tricks are just oh-so-cool about everything, like nothing fazes you.

It SHOULD faze you. You all should be sick to your stomachs right now. We're not doing enough, and I don't know how to do more, and it's killing me. It is. I can't play it cool. I just can't, I'm sorry." Tears begin to well up in Donald's eyes as he bites his lips, trying to hold back. His fists ball up at his sides. He takes a deep breath, and tries to get himself under control. "Look, I appreciate you trying to help Marcus. I know. But... this sh*t isn't normal. I'm not gonna sit here and eat cheesecake and pretend everything is all hunky-dory and gee whiz, I'm sure we'll figure it out lickety-split as soon as someone trips over the right clue. I'M supposed to be the guy who can see stuff that hasn't happened yet, and I can't see ANYTHING, so how are you guys going to figure it out? How am I?"

Spent, Donald drops to the floor. He bends his legs around him, sitting Indian style, and begins to clumsily drag some of the nearby tarot cards towards him. He hangs his head low, ignoring the world around him and compress all his focus towards the small patch of concrete between his legs. He mutters, just loudly enough for others to hear, "I'll be upbeat when he's beat. When he's gotten what he deserves."

[gremlin-pult]

"Oh God ****ING DAMMIT!" Marcus burst out, his voice rising into a short sharp yell as he banged his hand down on the table. His hand was visibly shaking, and small sparks appeared across his body, as he forced himself to stay in control.
"Don't you think I know that, kid? Don't you think this whole thing makes me sick. Well news flash kid, I want nothing more than to go out, and burn this ****er! My fire is whispering to me, telling me to burn this city to the ground, one house at a time until I find him!" As Marcus spoke dark smoke flowed out of his mouth, as if a furnace was burning in his throat. "I pretend that things are less bad than they are, because if I don't then I, and possibly all of us, would go mental. The world is an ugly place, especially the magical side of it. I got a headstart on that knowledge over you, but that doesn't make it easier, you know."
Standing up, He now started pacing back and forth as he spoke.
"I NEED to try and be positive, all the time. I NEED to have an illusion of something normal and "Hunky-dory". Because if I don't, I lose control. If you give into despair, you'll make a mistake. And then you'll die. If I give in, I'll lose control. And I don't know what happens then. I might level this building, I might level a city block, Hell I might level the whole damn city in fire!"

Panting heavily, Marcus spent the next few seconds regaining his cool. He absent-mindedly reached up and patted out the small flame that had started on his shoulder. Shakily he lit a cigarette before continuing, his voice calmer now, but still hoarse.
"That's why I play pretend, kid. I'm a mage, with more destructive power than most. You're a mage too. Doesn't matter how useless you think your power is. When something bad happens, you suck it up, drown your sorrows in pretend happiness, and move on. That's what it means to be a mage. That's your only choice in the matter, and if you don't take it, someone else removes you from the equation. You either learn to keep your cool, or you die."

[kenmadragon]

"Yes, you were very helpful." Arthur smiled at the two little spirits. They seemed happy to be of help, and bared their teeth in what amounted to a smile. Arthur didn't let that faze him though, as he dropped his hand to the ground. "Thank you both. Now, be on your way, you two, don't get into trouble, and be more careful about whose calls you answer..."

With that, Arthur smudged a line in the runes, and wiped his thumb over the chalk of the circle, breaking the circle. A light breeze rustled the rest of the chalk as the magic that powered the faerie trap faded away, disappearing into the wind as the spirits flitted away with the remains of their spoils.

"Teeth like a shark, huh?" Arthur mused as he stood up and turned to join the others again. The white haired girl and the Chinese mage were still by the notes that Arthur had been making to translate Drake's notes, but Marcus and Don were now shouting at each other very loudly a little ways off. Shaking his head at the two, the wizard tried to gather all the details together. He could do this, but it felt vaguely obscure. Like he was still missing something.

Arthur scratched his head as he looked at Thirty-Six and the Huntress. "So, what did you guys find?"

[Meriss]

"You either learn to keep your cool, or you die."



There is a sudden slow applause behind Marcus. He spins to find Drake standing behind him.

How the **** did he do that!

Drake looks ... older somehow, more tired than usual, maybe? Weird.

"Before you blow up at me. I'm being sincere. That's the best damn 'being a mage' speech I've heard in years."

He runs his hand through his hair. "So what do we got going on here? Fairy traps, cheesecake and depression. Yeah 'bout standard for a new cabal. Hang on kid, I've got something for this. And Wildfire if you burnt this, I will end you."

Drake moves to his work desk, those gathered by it spot him wiggle a back panel to reveal a Hidden Compartment. He extracts a bottle, a box and a stack of singed Styrofoam cups from the top of the desk.

He juggles the bottle, cups and box back to Marcus and Don. He sets the box down and pours a small measure of the liquid into one of the cups and hands it to Don.

"Drink it. You should be able to sip it. It's nearly thirty year old Scotch."

He bends back down and picks up the box. He opens it towards Marcus to reveal a half full box of cigars.

"Antique Cubans. Only take one."

He pours himself a cup of Scotch. And raises it in a toast.

"Gents, as Tante Josephine used to say, au sante."

He knocks the drink back.

"So what'd I miss?"

[Merilan]

Ruchelle impassively turns towards Arthur to state, "There are the police documents that Marcus procured, detailing the victims. I seanced through the blood at the latest victim's apartment and identified some characteristics of the perpetrator - but nothing particularly telling."

[LnGrrrR]

Don holds the cup in his hand, looking from it to Drake to Marcus. He sniffs it cautiously, then takes a small gulp from the cup. He screws his eyes shut as his face contorts, and it's easy to see that Don isn't a big drinker. Still though, he knows this is a rite of passage somewhat, an initiation, and he isn't backing down. He continues to take drinks from the cup, his reactions becoming less exaggerated with each sip, his posture becoming more loose.

[Q'telun]

James sighs and lights up another cigarette. "I hit up someone I thought might know something, but they turned out to be useless. Just told us what we already know about our guy, he has Burning Red Eyes, a Taste for Blood, he Stalks his Prey, and he Doesn't Exist. I mean, we already knew he was a predator from those poems he put out, but stalking your prey is less of a bird thing and more of a cat or canine thing. And the red eyes don't sound like any bird I've heard of, more like a Black Dog."

[gremlin-pult]

"Well, I have no idea yet what what's-his-face chinese guy has been doing exactly, so I won't talk about that. And I only heard a smidgen of what the librarian talked with the the feral tinkerbells about, so I won't talk about that either. Finally Don and Ru haven't told me exactly what they saw yet, so I guess I can't talk about that either... Which leaves the little I know, and the little I suspect." Marcus said, taking one of the cigars. Idly, he noted that he recognised the brand.
Huh. Dad smokes these. Always thought they were terrible when I was a kid... He thought, while lighting it up and taking a puff. ...Yeah. Utterly disgusting. He concluded. Nonetheless he kept smoking it.
"Anyway, I read the police file. He's a very, very sick puppy, thats fer sure. But you can read it yourself if necessary. My suspicion is this: Ru can use a form of blood magic. What if this guy is similar, in that he uses his, er... Other fluids, as a medium to gain control and power from his victims. It would mean we'll have a much harder time gauging how strong he may be, and that he might be much more aware of what He's doing than we thought. In short, it's not good news if I'm right. You may feel free to disprove my theory now." Marcus finished flippantly, although he was dead serious about hoping that Drake could prove his theory wrong here.


"And the red eyes don't sound like any bird I've heard of, more like a Black Dog."

Marcus halfturned to James. "Naw, it doesn't add up. It could Sound like a Black dog, true, but they don't attack unprovoked. The stationary ones only attack if someone desecrates the place they're guarding. And the moving ones don't attack, ever. They just follow you around, doing the creepypasta stare until you're hit by whatever doom they're sensing... Then again, My gut tells me it's a wendigo, what with the taste for blood, stalking and never being seen clearly. But since there's no cannibalism involved, least as far as I know, that's not a viable answer either."Marcus gave a half-Hearted shrug.

[Meriss]

Drake's face goes even more ashen at Marcus' response.

"Wildfire, that is the single sickest, most twisted thing I've heard all day. And I've been talking to the magi v zakone. I really can't disprove your theory. What I can say is I hope to h*ll you're wrong, and I can remind you that unless you were raised Hindi, tantric magic is not something that you can unconsciously use. It takes training."

"I like the black dog theory, but I have... had a map of all their known hangouts. Before someone who shall remain nameless torched my desk." He glares at Marcus. "They're all accounted for."

"Wendigo is a good thought too. But they prefer wilderness, so not too many of them in the city."

Drake sighs heavily. "Right now I think we're better trying to track him down, then worry about his eventual post Rending self. In other situations I've got good news and bad news from our Russian 'brothers'. Good news, Baba Yaga is coming to town next week. Bad news, Baba Yaga is coming to town next week. To preempt some of your questions; yes, the real thing. No, I don't know how old she is. I've learned that is not a question I ask anyone anymore. Three, I sincerely hope that she isn't coming because of our boy. If she is, there isn't a word in any language that I know to describe how royally f***ed we are."

Drake stares hard at the bottle of Glengoolie Black in his hand. "Anyone else want to add to my nightmares?"

[gremlin-pult]

Drake's face goes even more ashen at Marcus' response.

"Wildfire, that is the single sickest, most twisted thing I've heard all day. And I've been talking to the magi v zakone. I really can't disprove your theory. What I can say is I hope to h*ll you're wrong, and I can remind you that unless you were raised Hindi, tantric magic is not something that you can unconsciously use. It takes training."

"Oh I know it's a sick thought. That's why I was hoping you could tell me why it was impossible. I suppose we can only hope he's not Hindi, or aware of what he's doing, and otherwise prepare for the worst." Marcus retorted.


Drake sighs heavily. "Right now I think we're better trying to track him down, then worry about his eventual post Rending self. In other situations I've got good news and bad news from our Russian 'brothers'. Good news, Baba Yaga is coming to town next week. Bad news, Baba Yaga is coming to town next week. To preempt some of your questions; yes, the real thing. No, I don't know how old she is. I've learned that is not a question I ask anyone anymore. Three, I sincerely hope that she isn't coming because of our boy. If she is, there isn't a word in any language that I know to describe how royally f***ed we are."

Drake stares hard at the bottle of Glengoolie Black in his hand. "Anyone else want to add to my nightmares?"

Marcus paled visibly at the mention of the dreaded russian witch. "Baba Yaga!? Seriously!? Wow, you really pulled us into the biggest ****-heap of trouble this side of Greenwich, didn't ya?" He said, sitting down with a heavy sigh. "So basically we have a week to catch and deal with this guy. Great... Oh but I don't think I have more to add, no. At least we've only got one unimaginable force to contend with in Baba, since you assured me that it's not the real Mephisto we're dealing with. Man, I kinda wanna meet this guy, though... The kind of cojones and/or serious brain damage it takes to go around sporting one of the big bad names like that..."

[Meriss]

Marcus paled visibly at the mention of the dreaded russian witch. "Baba Yaga!? Seriously!? Wow, you really pulled us into the biggest ****-heap of trouble this side of Greenwich, didn't ya?" He said, sitting down with a heavy sigh. "So basically we have a week to catch and deal with this guy. Great... Oh but I don't think I have more to add, no. At least we've only got one unimaginable force to contend with in Baba, since you assured me that it's not the real Mephisto we're dealing with. Man, I kinda wanna meet this guy, though... The kind of cojones and/or serious brain damage it takes to go around sporting one of the big bad names like that..."

Drake looks oddly at Marcus. "She's a centuries old figure of myth and legend. She kinda does whatever she wants."

"You haven't done one of these before? .... Right, D.C. Uncle Sam. To be honest, Balthus explained it to me. The old lady likes to cruise around the colonies every couple of years terrifying her descendants. Think of it this way, your ancient witch queen grandmother wants to visit. You going to say no? She'll be holding court in the Black Sea Tearoom downtown. I'm expected to make an appearance, which means I'll have to find a gift. What am I going to get a centuries old Russian witch?"

"Mephisto is still pretty dangerous for a biker. He's a firm believer in no rules, no consequences. That's a good way to kill a whole bunch of people."

[Q'telun]

"Mephisto's a punk, all bark and no bite. Not worth our time right now" James blows smoke at the ceiling. "So its not a Black Dog, not a wendigo, doesn't sound like a werewolf, don't think its anything shark related. Uh, I'm down to vampire, or an Elder One. What's your opinion, Ruche?"

[Meriss]

Ruche looks almost puzzled for a moment. "A vampire could simply demand what the monster took. I am unfamiliar with this 'Elder One', or at least the English term. Describe it to me please? As for my opinion, this man or creature is evil and the spirits cry out for justice."

[Q'telun]

"It was a joke. But its not a vampire, so thats good." James starts pacing. "He sounds like a few different creatures, but doesn't match any I've heard of. We only have a few days until a new big bad comes into town, and so far all this day has yielded is cheesecake." He looks to the rest of the group.

"Did I miss anything?"

[Meriss]

Don is confused by all the references to poetry. He gathers from Arthur that this poetry is on Drake's workdesk. He grabs the folder and flips through the newspaper clippings. Weird, this guy sure likes to talk about flying. Could he...?

Against his better judgement Don closes his eyes and focuses on his vision. Not the whole thing again, just the end. The man rises from the bed. And moves away and fades from view. But his feet never touch the floor. This Creep Can Fly!

[kenmadragon]

As they were talking about Marcus' more twisted imagination regarding the art of magic, Arthur felt the calm sense of proper judgement restrain himself from bringing up the fact that he had a book in his personal collection that detailed such intricate magics, and that it did wonders for... well, it just wasn't a good idea to bring it up. They might ask where he got it, or when he actually used it, and that was a somewhat embarrassing story to tell.

Instead, the wizard pondered over what the others discussed about this "Johnny"'s capabilities were. The fledge hid from Fate magics, and all forms for divinatory magics. It could access nearly impossible to reach places and struck with only a proclivity for young blondes. It's eyes were burning red, with teeth like a shark's, and it had a taste for blood now. It had begun a ritual to formulate itself symbolically as a nesting or hatching ritual - the "birth" being this fledge's Rending whose side effects upon the newly Rent's surroundings would be terribly nasty.

And.. Baba Yaga? "A towel and comb, if you want to be cheeky about it." Arthur said offhandedly to answer Drake's question, referencing the old fairy tale relating to Baba Yaga and how the twins in the tale finally thwarted the witch's attempts at reclaiming them. After the children had escaped her strange home with the aid of their compassionate service to the various other beings in the tale, the witch had chased after them upon her broom, but the towel became a river, and the comb, a dense woods, so the witch had to fly home without them.

Fly home...

What if Johnny could fly? Then... could it really be? Arthur wasn't sure, but he had to know. If he was right, then Arthur was certain he might know what this fledging was trying to become with it's ritual and murders.

"Actually, I think I might have an idea but first... did any of you find out if..." Arthur puzzled over how to ask the question to confirm his suspicions. He wasn't all too positive, but it fit the profile. But he had to be sure. ... Can the fledgeling fly?"

Moment of Truth, I guess. It's a Superb (5) Difficulty to finally identify what the fledge is and what it's capable of. Arthur will be using all his remaining free invokes: one from the "Drakes Notes - Now Comes In Translated" boost, another from the "Sometimes, Spirits Say The Darnedest Things" boost, and one from "Mages In a Circle, Putting Heads Together". And if Donald has any invokes available to him from that Aspect he just discovered, he is free to pass them along, as the story will support that (but isn't incorporated into this roll for now).

That brings my Arcana check to Legendary... let's do this.

Arcana: [roll0]

[Meriss]

Don confirms to Arthur that indeed This Creep Can Fly.

With that the pieces fall into place. Arthur frowns. But that's... impossible, isn't it?

The fairies parting words come to mind. Mage and mortal alike Killed Them All. Oh god, no.

Please be wrong.

Arthur rushes to Drake's workdesk nearly bowling over Don in the process. He tears through the burnt papers and clutter. He knows that he saw it. Finally his hands rest on a thick tome. The Librum Malae Bestiae, The Book of Wicked Beasts. Compiled at the end of the Holy Roman Empire. It has every monster known to the mages of that time. Please be wrong, it's become a mantra at this point.

Arthur turns the pages with trembling hands. And finds the reference, he compares the details, everything fits, oh god everything fits. Everything fits, eight hundred years or more but it still fits. Dear Spirit Father, no.

Arthur fingers the title of the illustration, a raging bat winged monster. Draco Horribilis

Unbidden, the English name leaves Arthur's lips.

"Dragon"

[gremlin-pult]

As soon as Arthur said the word, Marcus was standing, and over by his side in a few long steps. Grabbing the bookish mage by the shoulder, Marcus turned him around. "Look at me. Look me in the eyes." Marcus said, his voice calm but completely devoid of emotion. "Please. Please tell me that you have Asbergers, and that Dragon is just one of those words you spit out at random intervals."

[LnGrrrR]

Don looks on in confusion. "Dragon? As in... big fire-breathing monster? So what, we need to find Excalibur or something?"

[Q'telun]

James simply walks over to Drake's desk and pours himself a half cup of scotch, downing it in one go. He calmly stubs out the butt of his cigarette and lights his next one with shaking hands before he starts speaking.

"Arthur never fought dragons. You're thinking of St. George and Ascalon. I can make some calls, try and get some anti-armor weaponry. Drake, you have any ideas on finding this qīngwā cāo de liúmáng now that we know what he's becoming?"

[gremlin-pult]

"A dragon." Marcus stated again. With the same odd calmness, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lit one, and promptly inhaled the whole stick in one long drag. After exhaling the smoke, he looked around with a blank expression.
"A mother****ing dragon." Marcus pulled out three more cigarettes, lit them, and put them all in his mouth simultanously. His slightly frantic puffing on them was the only thing betraying just how nervous he was at the latest revelation.
"Soooo..." He said, holding the three cig's in one hand. "I vote we wait until Baba Yaga get's here. If she takes an interest in Johnny the dragon, she might take him with her when she leaves."

[LnGrrrR]

"I was just kidding about the sword. Although... maybe not?

Donald grabs the tarot cards in his hand, and looks over them idly until he gets to the Knight of Swords. He stares at it hard, concentrating. "So this St George was a knight, right? Knights fight dragons. So let's see if this one can tell us anything about how he killed his dragon...

Donald is going to use one of his last two remaining Fate points to invoke his Doomed Fateseer fate-reading ability, and see if he can get any insight into a weapon that could damage this thing... Rolling Arcana...
[roll0]
Cmon vision, do your thing...

So a total of 4.

He pauses for a moment, and looks to Marcus. "No way. First off, this guy is still on the loose. I'm going to do everything I can to stop him. Second, do we really want trust a woman who lives in a house on chicken feet? Her decision making is suspect, at best. Besides, who's to say she would help? She might cause even more trouble. I'd rather get rid of our current X factor before dealing with two at the same time." He then turns back to the card, and begins to scrunch up his forehead, shut his eyes and let his fingertips play along the edge of the card. His other hand is tense, fingertips pressing against the tabletop.

[Meriss]

Drake picks up the bottle of Scotch from his desk again and stares at the marked page. He takes a long hard swig from the bottle.

"Merde, well the options for fighting one are fairly simple, scream, run, hide. Wildfire, you wanted to know how long we have to Catch This Guy? Now we know. Five weeks if he sticks to his pattern. The rapes were six acts of power and greed set before the egg. Now he has six kills to lay before the hatchling. He's got one. And he probably won't know this. He knows it's making him stronger."

"Magic swords are iffy, Excalibur itself is in the tomb of Arthur. And you need to be of noble birth. There's the Vorpal but it's in Europe. No time to go get any of them."

"Putting Baba Yaga up against him ... no. She'd help him or laugh at his rampage. Ultimately this conversation can't leave this warehouse. Some people would Rend everyone in the city to get to him."

[gremlin-pult]

"Well, I don't think he's gonna break his pattern. If he's kept it up this long, knows it makes him stronger and knows that he's hard to catch, then he won't suddenly change a winning strategy. Not unless someone else proves that the strategy doesn't work. So as long as no one interferes, or rather actually succeeds in interfering with his methods, he won't change them."
Marcus observed.
"And I figured you guys wouldn't go for pitting the two evils against each other... Meh, can't blame a guy for trying. I for one have absolutely no idea how we'd go about finding, much less killing a dragon. They ain't exactly my area of expertise. So maybe we should research that first? I mean, magic swords can't be the only thing that kills a dragon. There's only so many of them lying around."

[LnGrrrR]

"Marcus is right. There has to be something we can use. Bullets, blades, etc. Don't dragons bleed too? Arthur, does that book say anything about weaknesses? As much as I'd like to start trying to find this guy, I'd like some sort of plan if we run into him that doesn't result in all of us pissing our pants and then spreading our body parts across the alley. This guy is going to get more cocky, which means it might be easier to find him, but it's also more likely he's going to straight up attack us."

[Q'telun]

"We're thinking too far ahead here. And we're missing something. Something important..." James stops pacing. "Egg? A metaphorical egg, but an egg..."

James's eyes narrow as a thought strikes him. "Not a nest, a hoard. A Western Dragon almost always has a hoard. Drake, I'm borrowing your wall."

With that James rushes out the door, returning a minute later with a map that he spreads out over a blank wall. He shuffles through the reports, and marks the addresses of the incident on the map. When he's done, he steps back to let the others see.

[kenmadragon]

"Yes, magic swords are remarkably difficult to come by these days. Either they're lost to the world, or have been switched with replicas to protect them from those who seek their power." Arthur said offhandedly as he rubbed his sinuses, trying to remember all he could about dragons. They were a rare commodity in this world, and the wizard was glad that all the clues pointed to the less powerful variety of dragon out there - the monstrous kind. Didn't make things any easier, but it was nice for Arthur to console himself with the fact that this dragon wasn't particularly smart or skilled. But "Johnny" was still a dragon, trying to hatch itself. And that meant serious business.

"And it's not likely that the dragon will have a hoard. A lair, on the other hand, most definitely. Besides, there are plenty of ways to kill dragons. There really isn't any 'tried-and-true method' out there. Usually, you can put them to the sword, but even that's ridiculously tricky and dangerous. St George subdued the dragon with a maiden's girdle, then slew it with a sword. Daniel in the Bible killed a dragon with poison and guile. King Frotho the First killed a dragon by exploiting a chink in the dragon's armor..."

[Meriss]

Drake watches James put up the map. His drawn visage looks puzzled.

Then he stands besides the earth mage. "What are you...?"

The light dawns in his eyes as James starts marking out locations on the map. "Holy ... I see where you're going."

Drake grabs the police file as he too starts adding locations to the map. "He won't be aware of some of these, but he'll be avoiding the bigger players. He'll hunt close to his nest, hoard, lair whatever, not important. He'll be drawn by mana, I'm marking the ley lines."

"Kid, er Gambler!? Grab your deck! Right now he's still sorta human so what kills us, kills him. He's not a god or demon. Not yet anyway. Do a reading. Focus on fire, flight, push out the bad stuff as far as you can. Do a star or mandala spread. Marut! Help him if he doesn't know."

The map is piecing together now. "Ruche! Grab more red pins, help me mark the vampires. He'll avoid another predator's turf. Even if he don't know why."

"Wildfire, get your brain cooking. Think fire mage! Where do you go to burn? He'll want the same thing. Think your blackest nastiest thoughts. Then, think worse! He doesn't care about who he hurts."

The map is almost complete. Soon the mages would find The Dragon's Den.

[gremlin-pult]

"Well, if we're going by fire, and a lair..." Marcus mused, looking at the map. "He'd be using a place that feels safe. For him that would mean fairly free of people, easy to defend, and above all, warm. Somewhere with a lot of heat-producing machinery running around the clock. An industrial Steel mill, or a nuclear power plant."

Marcus stared blankly at the map for a moment, then shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "****, I hope he ain't at a nuclear plant..."

[Meriss]

Drake seems lost in thought as he tacks another pin on the map. "Nothing nuclear within miles of the Bay. Thank the hippies for that. I was talking targets, but yeah that scratches a few more places off my list. What about coal power?"

Drake starts muttering to himself. "He won't go near the Bay. The Thing tends to chase everyone. Ditto the Golden Gate. Trolls. The parks? No, Greenies and griffins, wouldn't he want to chase them, though?" He seems to drift off again.

[Q'telun]

"Chinatown has its own set of predators. Nowhere in werewolf territory." James crosses a few places off the map. "The fault is fairly inactive, so no lava. The dragon lines cross here, here, and here on land. Coal isn't really an issue."

[Meriss]

Drake's mutters some more. "Yeah, coal is earth, progress. Goes against his budding instincts. I already did the ley lines, they should be..."

He drifts off again as James adds other lines or extends already existing lines on the map.

[LnGrrrR]

"Guys, is it just me, or are these locations starting to form a pattern?" Don traces his fingers, forming a pattern.

[Meriss]

Drake smiles at Don's realization. "Yup, upside down cross tarot spread. Good catch, Gambler. It happens all the time. First thing you learn about mundies. Even though they can't see or use magic, they can and do sense it and they make patterns around it. You learn the rules, then you learn how to break em. Okay I'm grabbing black pins for the stationary black dogs and using black arrows to mark the mobile's path. Keep going people. Think of anything supernatural. Dragons have very specific likes and dislikes. The stronger our boy gets, the more he'll behave like one."

[kenmadragon]

"It'll be someplace he feels comfortable, and wants to spend a lot of his time. His home, or work, or wherever he feels most secure. Not in a physical sense, but in an emotional sense." Arthur murmured aloud, thinking quickly about all he could remember about dragons. There was quite a lot, but much of it was conjectural. The only true dragons around these days were smart enough to keep quiet and away from the world - even the magical world. While a monstrous one wasn't nearly as dangerous, they were mostly all dead, and Arthur didn't have first hand experience with one before. But even then, legends and myths could hold value if Johnny wasn't as intelligent as a dragon ought to be. So, it was up in the air as to which ones applied or not.

Then Arthur took a look at the shape of the picture being shown on the map. There was something he recognized about that picture. The way the ley lines flowed and the placement of various territories and supernatural hot spots. It all spun around in his head as he tilted it to get a better look. A thought occurred to him, as Arthur muttered "Wait a minute..."

Lore check, with Average Difficulty [roll0]

[Meriss]

Finally after much thought and deliberation the cabal has finished the map.

Frankly speaking it's a mess, littered with pins, Post-Its, string, and markers. But it forms an impressive picture of every supernatural in the city. More importantly it reveals three small areas where a fledgling dragon would make his Den.

Drake looks happy. "36 that was a great idea. I'm keeping this. I'll transfer it over to a more permanent form in the morning. But wow, I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner."

[gremlin-pult]

"So, what do we do now?" Marcus asked. "We could split up and check out these places, but I'd rather not go into a dragon den alone. Also, as far as we know he has no idea that we're looking for him. If he finds out he might go completely underground."
He looked troubled for a moment, frowning deeply, before continuing.
"And I gotta be honest, I'm not sure what I can do from here on out. I mean, all I'm really good at is being a conman, and burning things. And if he manages to turn into a dragon, I ain't sure how much fire is gonna help."

[LnGrrrR]

"Marcus, you just gave me an idea! Correct me if I'm wrong Arthur, but aren't dragons usually notoriously vain and overconfident? So what if Marcus started going to the areas our dragon goes to, and started claiming HE was the dragon?

After all, you can throw some fire around yourself, right? If you start claiming you are a dragon to two-but punks, they'll start talking. Heck, we could even pretend to be his minions or something. When the REAL dragon finds out, I bet he gets REALLY pissed off. I bet he comes to find us, which would be better than hunting him down in his own den.

What do you guys think? Marcus, you want to be a dragon? It would be a hell of a con." Don finishes explaining his idea, then surveys the room to see what the others think.

[gremlin-pult]

Marcus stared at Don for a moment. He then slowly got up, walked over, and placed his hands on Don's shoulders.
"I gotta tell ya, kid..." He said, his voice and expression completely serious. "That. sounds. badass!" He exclaimed, grinning with almost childish glee at the thought. "Taking on the mantle of a dragon... It would be the con of a lifetime. My piece de resistance!"

He quickly calmed down, however, furrowing his brow as another thought occurred to him. "But wait. Johnny ain't a dragon yet, right? how do we know he even has any of those dragon traits yet? or at all?"

[Q'telun]

James stares at the kid slightly incredulously. "Thats gotta be the dumbest idea I've heard all week. It relies on hothead here to NOT cause any rendings, reveals the fact that Johnny is a dragon to people we don't want to know that, and burns down parts of the city. If we hit all three spots at the same time we should be able to find him without alerting him to the fact that we're looking for him, and when we find him it shouldn't take more than one or two of us to take down a single fledge."

[kenmadragon]

Arthur sighed wearily at that suggestion. "Please tell me you're not serious." face-palmed the wizard, shaking his head. Good grief, he could understand Don thinking foolishly, but not the more experienced Marcus. "Because that is a terrible idea."

"Dragons are proud. Not vainglorious. This 'Johnny' doesn't know what he's doing. There's no way he'll know what you're trying to do, so he'll react on instinct, and roast somebody alive. And even if he did, drawing attention to ourselves is the easiest way to get killed." Arthur explained, wondering when Don had suddenly grown enough of a backbone to even suggest using Marcus as bait. "So, please, anger the dragon-ling. Ask it to kill you..."

Turning back to the board where they'd created the map and deciphered the three possible locations for the dragon's lair, Arthur frowned and noticed that they were not all as convenient as one might like. "This calls for a stakeout. We've narrowed it down to three places in the city a couple blocks large where the lair could be. If we keep tabs on each one, we might be able to figure out which one's the right one, and find the damned lair from there."

[LnGrrrR]

"Sorry I haven't been keeping up with my "What's New With Dragons" subscription," Don said petulantly, then continued, "but last I checked everyone was all concerned this guy was a dragon. Now, this guy," Don hooks a thumb in James direction, "is all like, "Oh two of us can take him down, no sweat." Hello, but not all of us are trained assassins pulled from some dime store pulp noir action comic book! F*ck!

Don goes over to the scotch, grabs it violently and takes a long pull at the bottle. He sputters, then places it back on the table with a loud thump.

"At best, we can only watch two places out of three. What happens if he hits the third? Oh well, another dead girl to give us more evidence for the week after?"

Donald takes a deep breath, visibly trying to call himself. He starts again in a more calm voice. "Guys, work with me here. I can't throw around elements, I don't kill people on the regular, and I don't have a library full of magical books. I don't summon creatures. I don't do any of..." he liars to wave his hands around, encompassing the room, "... Any of this."

[Q'telun]

"Then sit down and let the adults do the talking. At least think your plans through." A vein in James's forehead pulses as he begins his rant. "You say you don't want to endanger another woman, but your plan calls for massive amounts of fire and heat to be thrown around by someone who got angry at notes and lit a desk on fire. Thats smacks of hypocrisy of the worst kind. You say you don't kill people on the regular? Well now you get to learn, because Johnny isn't a dragon. Right now he's still mostly human. And you're going to help stop him."

He draws his gun in one fluid motion, a wild look in his eyes. "And this is how we're going to stop him. We're going to put a bullet in his brain, and splatter his brains all over the floor. And if you don't like that, then more people are going to die."

[gremlin-pult]

"Hey, hey, hey. let's not forget the goal here, guys." Marcus said calmly, stepping over between James and Don.

"I liked your plan, and think it had epic fun potential, but they DID poked some major holes in it. That's too bad, but let''s just move on from that. Besides, you're new to this, and you'll learn that it's is very rare that the first few plans a newbie makes works out. It'll come with experience." He said to Don, sternly but not unkindly.

"And you." He said, turning to James, not even twitching at the drawn gun. "Why don't you cool down a bit? I get that the kids plan may not have been the most well-thought out, and that it ain't optimal for him to be getting riled up, but cut him some slack, why don't ya? He's doing a pretty bang up job of keeping calm so far, considering what he was thrown into as his introduction to our side of life. And he's trying his best to help." Marcus was still talking calmly, but there was a hard edge to his voice. This guy was supposed to be a professional, so losing his cool over a teenager was pretty unsightly, after all.
"So maybe calm the **** down, and try to act a little less like a complete jackass, and a little more like a pro, huh?"

Marcus then stepped aside, and lit another cigarette. He looked around at the others, and sat down on his chair once more.

[LnGrrrR]

Don looked to Marcus with a nod, a subtle indicator of appreciation. He grabbed the alcohol and poured James a drink. "I want this guy to pay too. And I'm not a fan of the way we have to do it, but I understand. It doesn't mean I have to like it." He fills his cup again, then sets the bottle down next to James. "And I wouldn't be so sure about how human he is, honestly. You haven't seen him yet." Don gulps visibly, thinking back to the scene that keeps replaying in his head. "Don't take this guy for granted."

Don pulls out a chair, and sits down at the table across from the others. He rests his chin in his hand and begins to tap his fingers on the table, saying,"Ok, it's a stakeout then. Who's picking the spots, and what are the teams? Librarian, what do you think the teams should be?" Don asked, looking at Arthur.

[Q'telun]

James snorts derisively. "I don't wanna hear that from you, hothead. And kid, just because he's a monster doesn't mean he's not human." He shoves his gun back in its holster under his jacket. He taps the middle spot. "I'll stake out this one. Marut, I figure you'll do your own thing. Hothead and kid, you two seem to get along well."

[Meriss]

Drake makes a noise in the back of his throat. "Cabals, can't live with em..." He drifts off again.

"So, you guys heading out tonight or what? Cause, no offense you all look ragged and sound awful. I'd suggest hitting the hay for tonight and starting fresh in the morning. And seriously kid? You come by tomorrow morning, I'll run you through a couple of spreads, we'll get your mojo locked in. Trust me, you are way more powerful than you give yourself credit for."

[LnGrrrR]

Don laughs, then half jokingly replies to Drake, "I feel like I'd be much more useful if I was Gambit, and could make these silly cards explode, or something." He pulls out his cards, shuffling them quietly. "I'll stop by tomorrow, but it can't be early. I have a Geometry test and the teacher is a hardass. But I can probably cut out after lunch... all I have is Home Ec and French III. He checks his watch, and makes a face. "Speaking of which, I have to get back home. Marcus, you need a ride still?" He fishes around in his pocket for his keys.

[kenmadragon]

Arthur shook his head at how everyone else merely exploded like that. Jesus, this was going to be trying. "I'll talk to the spirits near each potential location, ask them to keep a look out." he offered before giving Thirty-Six's gun a disapproving look. Arthur didn't like guns. He didn't like violence, really, and it pained him to admit that he really didn't like the idea of having to kill someone to stop more killings from happening.

"And Don, if you really want to learn how to use your magic in dangerous situations," the wizard turned to the teenager, "Then I can help with that. That is, if you don't want the pain of having Drake teach you like he's training Story... Besides, if you ever need help with school assignments, I'm glad to help tutor you. You'd be surprised how useful geometric principles are in controlling magica energies..."

[LnGrrrR]

Don paused, a smile brightening his face. "Thanks. I might take you up on that. I actually love Geometry... it's way more interesting than Algebra. Solving proofs is like being some sort of mathematical Sherlock Holmes." He paused for a second, considering that statement. "I guess I'll have to get use to detective work now," Don said in a sober tone. "Drake, I'll be by tomorrow afternoon. Is everyone else going to meet up then so we can determine all the who's, when's, why's, etc?"

[Meriss]

Drake nods. "Yeah I'll be ready. Tell you all what, our boy is probably going to be nocturnal. Why doesn't everyone swing around here tomorrow afternoon? Bet I can squeeze a magic class out of my memory, one like Balthus used to run. Sound good?"

That odd twinkle is back in Drake's eyes. Weird.

[gremlin-pult]

"Speaking of which, I have to get back home. Marcus, you need a ride still?" He fishes around in his pocket for his keys.

"Yeah, that'd be swell." Marcus answered, getting up and glancing around to make sure he weren't forgetting anything.


Drake nods. "Yeah I'll be ready. Tell you all what, our boy is probably going to be nocturnal. Why doesn't everyone everyone swing around here tomorrow afternoon? Bet I can squeeze a magic class out of my memory, one like Balthus used to run. Sound good?"

That odd twinkle is back in Drake's eyes. Weird.

"Sounds good." He remarked. "No offense, but I have a powerful, but fairly limited skill set with magic. And I honestly don't think there's much about fire manipulation you could teach me. I've had my whole life to learn about it, after all."

[Meriss]

Drake nods "I think you'll find Balthus had some pretty unusual teaching methods"

"Anyway you guys better head out, I gotta clean up before bed. So good night, all"

Wait, Drake was sleeping here? Rough.

[Meriss]

The night passes uneventfully. Nothing but the usual dreams. Morning is more of the same. Breakfast, work, school. An ordinary day so far.

You return to the warehouse to find Drake and Story sitting on yoga mats in the lotus position.

"Hey folks" pipes Drake without opening his eyes. "C'mon in. Sit down. We're focusing on our chakras. You guys are welcome to join us."

[Q'telun]

James eyes the yoga mats suspiciously, lighting up the first cigarette of his second pack of the day. "Yeah, no thanks. Never bought into the whole qigong thing."

[Meriss]

"Says the man who can do magic." Drake smiles again. "Lesson one of Drake's magic class, it doesn't matter if you believe in it, it works because everyone else does. Hey do me a favor, would you 36? Can you check the map again, make sure I didn't miss anything? Wildfire, can you check my desk, make sure I found all of my scraps? Gambler c'mere, take load off, frame of mind is important for a diviner."

[LnGrrrR]

Don steps into the warehouse just as Drake calls out to him. "Hey, sorry I'm late. I got caught up talking to someone." He takes a seat next to Drake, sitting down with his legs tucked underneath him. "Ok, so now what? Do I... hum or something?"

[kenmadragon]

"No." came a voice from behind the teenager, who turned to see Arthur entering now. Glancing around, Arthur found an empty spot and sit as well, allowing enough space for Don to be able to see everyone in the circle.

"You sit like so, you close your eyes, and you focus." the wizard explained as his legs folded and his hands rested palms up upon the outside of his thighs. "Humming isn't the point. The point is to focus upon clearing your mind of all thoughts. Empty your mind, and focus upon one's breath. Let your thoughts and worries all slip away with each exhalation until all that is left is the divine sound - 'Om'. A single sound, which all that is and is not. Let it be the only thing left in your mind. Let everything else slip away from the borders of thought, so your mind may emptied thus."

"That's how a yogi should meditate."

[Meriss]

Drake smiles again without opening his eyes. "Yup. You sound just like Guru Sandeep, Marut, cool guy down in Little Bombay. He's one hundred years old if you believe him. I tend to focus on my heart chakra, but most diviners I talk to say the third eye works best. The goal of this is to get used to interacting with your arcane energy. Pin it down, figure out where you live magically, so to speak. There should be a ley line running right through the middle of this warehouse. Focus on your breathing, see if you can let go of your consciousness long enough to see it."

[LnGrrrR]

Don nods, then maneuvers himself into the proper position. He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He continues to do this deep breathing, imitating Marut's pose.

[Q'telun]

James walks over to the wall trailing smoke, giving the meditators a wide berth, and scrutinizes the updated map. "Yeah, looks right to me. Well, I'll head out now. Call you if I see the guy."

[gremlin-pult]

"Wildfire, can you check my desk, make sure I found all of my scraps?"

"Sure sure." Marcus answered casually. As he looked over the burned desk, he idly remembered how quickly he'd gotten riled up enough to do something so petty.
I should probably feel worse about that than I do... What does that say about me? ​He wondered for a moment.

[Meriss]

Drake's smile grows wider as James and Marcus get into position. "Hey Gambler? You find that ley line yet? You're going to need it."

His eyes snap open and his hand gestures towards Arthur. "Marut of the winds, I bind you. Arthur Prospero Mercutio Fontayne, I bind you. By your own name, I bind you. Thrice, I bind you. You may not move or cast spells, until I release you." Arthur feels his Training by Spirits forcing him still. He is Bound by His Own Name.

Suddenly Don feels bands of solid concrete wrapping around his legs. He is Pinned to the Ground!

Drake stands up slowly. "Argh, I hate lotus pose. 36 look down. Check my Mandarin for me. You should be in the center of a Wind, Water and Wood Feng Shui maze. Which means You Can't Move. Wildfire, I'm especially proud of yours. A pentacle, inside a magic circle, inside a salt ring, inside a tiny trench of aqua eternia. Your Fire is Bound."

He puts his canvas duster on. "Welcome to Drake's magic class, gents. First rule of magic class. Don't talk about magic class. Second rule, I'm a giant ***hole. I'm going to get coffee, I've left several loopholes in each of my spells. Your goal is to figure out where and break them."

He opens the door "Abigail, you may open your eyes and speak again. Seeya!"

Story's eyes snap open just as the warehouse door slams shut. "Look out, it's trap!" She looks around at the trapped mages. "Great, buncha morons."

[LnGrrrR]

Don struggle in vain for a few moments, then sighs loudly. "Drake does know we are trying to hunt down a killer, right? Don looks around, thinking. "So guys, is this one of those figure it out on your own things, or one of those we need to help each other things?" I'm willing to help if anyone has any ideas. Not sure how there could be a loophole with being Pinned to the Ground..."

[Q'telun]

James just sighs. This takes him back. The itching under his skin from the Feng Shui map, the feeling of helpless paralysis, the insufferable teacher. "I think you're supposed to break the binding on Marut over there. I'll get you out once I'm free."

Deep breath in through the nose, and fall to the center. Calm the pulse, adjust the breathing, and let the whole world fade away. Collect the qi in the stomach, purify it in the crucible, then push it back through the body.

James looks down at his feet with new eyes. The Mandarin is all correct, and just like Drake said there's wood, water, and wind. He sighs again. Western Mages. He spits out his lit cigarette towards the hothead the best he can, and gets to work on his own trap.

Ignoring the Wind and the Water, he focuses his attention on the Wood. Maintaining his calm, he begins to breathe like he's fanning a Fire into life, burning the Wood into Earth. When he finally feels that he has enough power, he shoves everything straight down into the trap.

[LnGrrrR]

Don looks at 36 in confusion. "Break the bindings? How am I supposed to do that? I can't move myself. Though if one of you had a handy pocket jackhammer to break me out of this concrete, that would be wonderful right about now." Don tries to lay back, but the position is too awkward and he sits back up, resting his head in his hands again. He idly scratches his head, looking around the room in hopes it will spark up some idea.

[kenmadragon]

Any looking at Arthur at that moment would likely see a rather unusual expression on the man's face. Arthur was pissed.

He couldn't move, and the magical compulsion of a name-spell was preventing him from consciously using his powerful wind magical abilities. Spirits hated **** like this. Especially air elemental spirits and faeries. Freedom was their birthright. Being bound like this was incredibly degrading and embarrassing.

But... "Calm down," Arthur said aloud, mostly to himself. Taking a few deep breaths, he noted he could still speak, and thusly set about determining what he could still do. He knew the binding was not totally infallible - Drake had only used four of Arthur's name. So, the bindings would hold him, but they could not truly contain him. Had Drake used the entire panoply that was Arthur's true name, then things would be very much different. But only two beings in the entirety of existence knew the full true-name - Mother and Father. The names Drake had used were his mortal names - given by dead parents. Upon his adoption, Arthur had been given several other names, some of which had never been divulged, so as to protect him from the full-force of a True-Naming.

Nevertheless, four names was enough to call him and place these minor bindings upon him, and that was enough to draw his ire.

"Not necessarily." Arthur turned to Don, though the sense of aggravation was quite clear in the wizard's eyes. Well, he was still frozen in position and place, unable to turn his head at any of the others, but at least he could blink, breathe, and speak. "You're a Seer, Don. Simply use that gift to see a time when the concrete that binds you wasn't binding you. Then remind the earth of that."

As Don attempted to puzzle out what that meant, Arthur focused on his memory of Drake's words. He needed to find the loophole in the incantation. There was a mistake in that Naming, the wizard could tell. He just had to remember what it was, focus upon it, and allow the bindings to dissolve as the revelation of a flaw splintered it's integrity.

[gremlin-pult]

Sitting down in his circle with a sigh, Marcus scratched his head wearily while studying the different magics. "Huh... Gotta give the guy points for effort and creativity. Haven't seen anyone combine a pentacle and a magic circle for years..."

He closed his eyes, and tried to remember how each of these barriers were commonly used, and what their main weaknesses were. Well, the salt circle is easy, just need the bookworm to make a little wind and... Oh, wait, no. He's caught too...


[roll0]


"Hey Donnie, do me a favor, would ya? Try and focus on the circles holding me? there should be some kind of power source, maybe even something for all of our cages. There's no way Drake is powering all this with his own magic, and since out of all of us your magic is the one closest related to sight, you should be more suited for locating it." Marcus said after a moment. He then turned to James. "I'm gonna need your help getting out of my cage, 36. These circles just need to be disrupted to lose all their power, so you producing a crack in the floor across them will be enough. But first we'd need to get you out, of course... I think Drake was serious about the whole teamwork thing. We may not have the means of breaking our own bindings, but we can probably do something about each others."


Marcus racked his brain for a solution to their predicament, Concentrating hard on which one of them that could possibly first be released. How did Drake do it again? Demon circles for me, which is simple in theory... Concrete for Don, which is stupidly simple in theory, we just need one guy free with a blunt object... The Feng Shui **** 36 is caught in is all greek to me, so that's annoying... And the bookworm. He was bound... By name!?

He turned to Arthur with a hopeful expression. "Hey librarian, I have an idea. You were bound by your names, right? But I'm thinking that you haven't told Drake all your names, because that would be stupid. So what if, and bear with me here, what if we used the same names he did, and one more of your names, to set you free. Wouldn't the spell with the most names be stronger than the other, and override it?"

[kenmadragon]

"No!" Arthur declared adamantly. "I will not divulge another of my names! Your theory is correct, but I can not and will not divulge another."

Stuck in his paralyzed body, Arthur blinked, muttering to himself under his breath of how the damnable trenchcoat trickster had done his homework in crafting that Naming trap. His eyes flitted over to Thirty-Six and the Infernus.

"I can get free of this if a Circle of Dissolution is drawn around me. But one of you will need to draw it for me..." Arthur proposed, before his eyes settled upon Story. "Story, how were you ensnared? A paralysis spell of some sort?"

[Meriss]

Story glances around the room with considerably more anger than Arthur did.

"From what I heard. He did the same thing to me as he did to you. I came in this morning. He was futzing around with chalk and incense. I asked him what was up. He told me he had a plan to show you guys how to work together."

She growls. "Then he spouted a bunch of nonsense at me and I couldn't move. Then he called me by my full name and I had to obey him. He's such an @$$!"

[Q'telun]

James steps back out of the maze and shakes his head like he's trying to get water out of his ears. "Alright, just break the circles, yeah? And the kid is simple enough, just move the concrete back." He sighs and lights a new cigarette. "I'm not going to be much help with a Circle of Dissolution, sounds more Western than I can deal with."

[LnGrrrR]

"Hmm I have an idea. Maybe I can just skip all the figuring out stuff and jump to the vision of where we figure out the solution..."

[roll0] Don peers into the future, investigating for clues...

[Meriss]

Don is not quite used to dealing with his powers. So looking into the future is not quite like looking in an unseen direction. Not yet anyway.

So instead of the future Don sees an overlay of twisting colors and shapes.

One prevalent color in the room seems to be a twisting river of blue energy passing right through the center of the room. What the?

[LnGrrrR]

"Uhm, so hey guys, there's a big blue glowy line running through the middle of the room. Anyone care to explain that? Also, still waiting on that jackhammer..."

[kenmadragon]

"Ah, of course. Ley lines." Arthur tried to grin, but found that his face could only stretch so far. Then realizing that Don would only have a cursory understanding of what those were, Arthur elaborated. "Ley lines, or dragon lines, are lines of magical energy that flow throughout the world. Sort of like how the human body has a system of veins and arteries which let blood flow through the body. You can use ley lines to focus and gather power, and sometimes you can use them to persist spells for you, if you don't feel like tying the spell to your own energies. Very good for long-term barriers and spells of that nature."

"Makes it a sonnuvagun to disrupt that though. Let's see if I can't call for help." With that, Arthur began to whistle lowly, then building the pitch, making some strange manner of bird call.

Contacts, don't fail me now! Let's call for some spirit help! [roll0]

[Q'telun]

James looks intrigued. "Oh, a dragon line? Just gimme a second, I can cook something up for that."

[gremlin-pult]

"Yeah, a ley line is exactly the kinda thing that could be used to fuel all these magics." Marcus said. He looked on with mild interest as the others tried their different methods of breaking their bindings.
"I would do more to help if I could." He mentioned with a shrug, as he sat crosslegged and relaxed in his circle. "But there's really very little I can do in here, besides cheering you on. Binding circles like these might be pretty simple, but they're also pretty much without any kind of loophole as long as they're complete. Messing with the leyline won't affect them either, since they ain't actually fueled by it, except to begin with. Once they're turned on by that first spark of magic, they're pretty much a closed of, self-renewing system..."

[Q'telun]

James stretches and cracks his neck, as arcs of green lightning run up his legs and between strands of hair. "Hey Story."

"What."

"Tell Drake I aint fixing his floor."

He steps forward, and slams his foot down hard on the ground, imprinting his size 10 soles into the hardened concrete and sending a pulse of raw, untamed Earth through the pitiful concrete binding his (reluctant) cabal mates.

[Meriss]

Arthur hears a tiny voice behind him calling out. "Hey! Is someone in trouble? Hello?"

The tiny voice is almost immediately silenced by a sudden rush of energy pulsing through the room. Arthur feels a sudden calm wash over him as he is reminded of home. His true home.

"Eep!" Shrieks the tiny voice and ducks behind Arthur's collar. He is relieved to realize that the voice is that of Pivli the slyph, who is thankfully omnivorous. Thus lacking the nasty teeth of a pixie.

James looks up from his focused stance as the Wind energy washes over him. He realizes that he has unknowingly performed an incredible feat. He is one of the few Wu Xing practitioners in the world who can claim successful manipulation of a Wind aspected dragon line. An insufferable smile creeps on to his face as he helps Marcus stand up and pass through the now shattered magic circle.

Don watches in awe as his own bonds shatter from the impact of the earth mages foot.

[gremlin-pult]

"Niiice move, man." Marcus said, giving James an appreciative clap on the shoulder as he was pulled up. He smiled jovially, then pulled out a new cigarette. Before lighting it, he offered one to James as well, with an eyebrow lifted in question.​

[LnGrrrR]

Don checks his legs carefully, squeezing them and putting pressure on them. "Thanks for not breaking my legs!" He stands up, his right leg obviously asleep, and he shakes it vigorously. "Ok guys, what do you want me to do now? Marcus are you good now, or do you need me to... splash some water on you? Or light you on fire? All you elementals throw me off."

[Q'telun]

James shakes his head at the offer of the cigarette. "I think you're the one best suited to busting Marut out kid. I'm not that good with tricky wording, and unless hothead is, I don't think Marut can get out by himself. Think you could look ahead and find out what the wording Drake uses to release him is?"

[gremlin-pult]

"Nah, I'm good, kid. The circles were sealing me, nothing more. Like I said, it's a simple bu effective binding." Marcus said, lighting his cigarette. "And as for Marut, or whatever, The simplest way to get him out would be to release him, using the same names Drake did, and then one more. But that would mean him having another of his names revealed to us, which he made pretty clear ain't gonna happen. Besides that, I dunno if there even is any other way of breaking a naming spell." He continued, glancing over at Arthur.
"If there is, he'll probably be the one who knows, not me."

[LnGrrrR]

"Ok, so maybe we can't use his names in a normal fashion, but what about using them in a different fashion? Like saying them backwards, or making an anagram out of them? Aren't spirits supposed to be mischievous or something anyways?" Don looks at Marut with a shrug. "It worked for Mr. Mxyzylplk."

[kenmadragon]

Arthur had stopped talking for a moment as he felt the rush of wind magic blaze through his form as Thirty-Six tapped into the ley line to break the bindings around the other three mages. That was... unexpected. Earth mages were typically inflexible in regards to manipulating Wind magic, that tapping into a strong Air-aspect line would be a monumentally difficult feat. He barely even registered Pilvi hiding behind his collar. It wasn't like he could move his body, anyways, so the fact that it tickles slightly meant he couldn't even lift her off.

"Mxyzptlk." Arthur corrected. "And that's a special circumstance case. Doesn't work that way in this sort of spell. Now, Don, pay attention. These are tricks that don't rely upon internal power or capabilities, so anyone can do this sort of thing."

"So, somebody needs to get some dry ash. Then, a bit of fresh water, the purer the better. Holy water would be best, but you can make do without. A couple drops of the water should be enough to make a paste out of the ash. Use that to draw a pentacle upon our brows. Then draw a circle on the ground around me and around Story, and around the circles inscribe runes of absolution. Petrarche's Codex, pages 55 through 60, as I recall. Then wait for me to give you the go ahead on the next steps. You can use chalk for the circles and runes, there should be some around here somewhere."

Arthur then directed his attentions to Pilvi, who was still hiding behind his neck from the scary mages. It was unfortunate he couldn't turn his head, that would make things easier. "Now, Pilvi, dear, you need to get clear of the circle before it's drawn so you can infuse it with power. Don't want you getting caught in the spell, now do we? Tap the ley line of Air beneath us to complete the circle trap, and I'll give you some cream when I'm free, okay?"

[Meriss]

The fairy's insignificant weight shifts from Arthur's collar. He is treated to a full view of the slyph's face as she hovers inches in front of his face. "Don't joke about cream, buster."

Arthur knew he had uttered the ultimate magic word in dealing with smaller fae. Better than please or thank you. A smart fae binder could get an army of fairies to work for him with a careful rationing of a bottle of half and half.

Pivli considers for a moment. "I want a whole big bowl. All to myself!"

"But, why do you need a Circle of Dissolution? What's wrong?" She tilts her head until she is hovering upside down, her tiny hands clutching her dress. "Oh boy, you must be angry! That's a doozy!"

"I'll help!"

"Hey! Big mages! Listen to Pivli! We've got a lot to do! So!"

As the tiny fairy gets more excited her speech begins to grow faster and faster until to the untrained ear she sounds like a possessed lyrebird.

This might be interesting...

[kenmadragon]

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Alright, a whole bowl... But, err... Pilvi, you're still invisible to them, remember? You have to lower your glamour..."

[Meriss]

Pivli pauses in her explanation of how Petrarche discovered the runes of absolution. The anger is clear on her tiny face but the promise of cream is irresistible. "Tena said you were nice."

There is a sudden shimmer in the air as a figure of an eight inch tall woman with wings and a billowing silk dress appears about a foot above Arthur's head.

"Where was I? Right! So Petrarche said to the saint; how, oh great one can I purify the innocent?" And off she went again...

[Q'telun]

James sets to work drawing out the circle around Story and Marut, only vaguely listening to the spirit's explanation of the lore behind the arcana. Its all Western style magic, so the theory behind it might be helpful, the practical applications would be lacking. So he settles on half listening, and looking up the billowing dress when he gets close to Marut.

[kenmadragon]

"Oh, but here I was, thinking I would give you a whole bottle of cream for helping me out, and keeping quiet about all this. It's rather embarrassing you know..." Arthur said sweetly, a cheshire grin coming to his face. "Buuuut, if you only want a bowl's worth of cream, then that's fine by me..."


Arthur smiled as the little spirit fussed about that new information, and cast his eyes towards Don, who seemed to be staring at the sylph in mid air. "Now, everyone, this is Pilvi. She's a sylph. Pilvi, that's Thirty-Six with the jade, Wildfire's the one who smells of smoke, and the young man is Don. The young woman who's also trapped is Story."

[Meriss]

Pivli nods as each mage is introduced. "Obviously, I meant a bowl big enough to hold a bottle's worth of cream."

Slpyhs, masters of negotiation.

James catches glimpses of tiny hairless legs but not much else. He recalls that the moon would be fairly bright tonight, maybe he could swing down to the docks and catch a few mermaids moonbathing topless.

[gremlin-pult]

Seeing as the asian mage of the group had just decided to draw out western spell-circles, Marcus decided that it was probably wise for him to assist. While he didn't actually take the chalk out of James' hand, he did crouch down beside him and give friendly pointers on how to do it and not have the circle become a complete disaster.

"That line is crooked. It has to be more straight..."

"No, that's the sign for the southern constellations. You need the northern ones for this kinda circle..."

"Are you seriously trying to use one of Solomons runes? They were corrected and improved by Crowley years ago. Granted the spirits who taught Solomon weren't exactly keen on doing so, what with the whole tricked into servitude thing..."

So I guess I'll make a Arcana check to see if Marcus' "helpful" advice is useful and annoying, instead of just annoying.

Arcana: [roll0]

[Q'telun]

James grits his teeth. Maybe the hothead was right. But he was following the directions of the pixie, not him.

Arcana Roll for the circle: [roll0]

[Meriss]

It takes much longer than it should to draw the circle. But, James finishes the task well. Pivli claps her hands in delight as only small children and fairies can.

She twirls in the middle of the room giggling and a small spark of arcane energy jumps between her and a seemingly random point in the air.

As she does Marut and Story feel artic winds wash over them and through them purifing their minds and bodies, both trapped mages rise to their feet and begin the process of restoring circulation.

[gremlin-pult]

"Well, I guess that's that." Marcus said, as the two last captives were freed. "I dunno about you guys, But I think we deserve an A+ for some nice teamwork right there. I'm thinkin' cheesecake and victory smoothies. Whaddya say? We can just leave this mess for mr. teacher to clean up."

[LnGrrrR]

"As fun as that was, being trapped like some super hero and all that... aren't we here to take that guy down? I think we should plan our stakeout and then head out." Don taps his foot impatiently, looking around the room at the others. "Also, what could Drake possibly be dealing with that's more important than this dude?" He shrugs lazily.

[Q'telun]

"Its a stakeout, what's there to plan?" James starts pulling his coat back on as he heads for the door. "Call Drake if you see our target, or come back the next day if you don't. Hey Story, wanna ride along with one of us?"

[LnGrrrR]

"I don't know, maybe we should at least have each other's numbers in case the dude ends up trying to attack someone? You know, so we're not just sitting eating popcorn while he kills someone else? Just a thought..." Don says to the quickly leaving James.

[kenmadragon]

"Ah, much better." Arthur grinned as he stood and stretched, glad to be free of that accursed spell. He hated being pinned like that. The man turned his grin to the little sylph now on his shoulder, giggling happily. "Now, I owe you a bottle of cream. But first, I need to hear you promise you'll keep all of this a secret, okay? Just between you, me, and these mages here, okay?"

He noted her pouting which only made him smile teasingly, as he turned to Don to answer his question. "Well, I already have yours, and you, mine. But who did we decide was going where, again?"

[Q'telun]

"I'm going to the center. Divide the rest up. As for calling for backup, again, call Drake. He should have all our numbers."

[LnGrrrR]

"Alright then. Who's riding with me?" Don brandishes his keys while he takes a sip out of a McDonald's paper cup.

[gremlin-pult]

Marcus walked over to stand next to Don, put his hand on his shoulder, and looked out as if gazing introspectively on something far away. "There are cheesecakes and young ladies in need of shining knights out there, my trusty sidekick." He said with a serious voice. "We must away, to play the gallant hero! Let us ride!" He proclaimed grandly, with a broad sweep of his arm. He then walked towards the exit, but turned after a few steps.
"Oh, and we'll have to stop fo cigarettes on the way. I'm running dangerously low."