Legion of New Cydonia (M&M 3e)

[ironrevenant]

Legion of New Cydonia

Act 1: No Sanctuary

https://www.tripadvisor.com/LocationPhotoDirectLink-g36619-d968819-i44333393-Social_Urban_Bar_and_Restaurant-Rockford_Illinois.html#44333393



Sanctuary, New Mexico, is a small town like any other. An old forgotten highway runs through the town, there’s a single gas station that is populated by a man born in the early twentieth century and his dog and the lone Starbucks is staffed by bored college students on their summer breaks.

Without much difficulty, you manage to find Freddy’s, a small bar on the north side of town. It isn’t much to look at with your normal vision, but by switching to witchsight you see a whole lot more. Wards cover the premises, and various spirits and ghosts seem to linger around the place in a multitude generally only seen in graveyards. This is definitely the place where someone would come to conduct business if they were a practitioner.

Pushing the doors open, you find the inside smoky and dark, as soft jazz plays from overhead speakers. Everyone in here is likely a practitioner, so to make a fuss would be tantamount to suicide.

A husky voice calls from behind the bar, "What can ah do ya for?"

[BarbieTheRPG]

Oristales:

Gideon strides into the legendary divebar like a panther stalking prey. He eyes the room through the wisps of smoke taking note of the faces.

"Places like this is where old spells go to die," Gideon thought, "Figures that McClarent chose Freddie's: out of the way and minimal risk of confrontations. Maybe he's getting smarter since last I saw my fire-binding friend."

Nodding at the bartender, Ori orders, "Sure, my friend --- let. me. get ....... I'm feeling nostalgic suddenly. Give me an Old-Fashioned. Neat, please?" Sliding a $100 bill on the bar, Gideon turns to look over the 'establishment' again,

"Feels like I've been here before."

[Quellian-dyrae]

J.D., frankly, didn't have the first clue who this Isaiah McClarent fellow was. He wasn't exactly well-informed about the supernatural world. Oh, sure, he knew the basics, from his parents' journals. But that was pretty much all he knew. So why, then, would a young rogue travel all the way to New Mexico to meet a stranger in a bar on the word of a letter? After all, to survive as he had would certainly require a wary, cautious approach to the world that those who were blessed with a more sheltered, stable existence might unjustly describe as paranoia. Well, there were three reasons:

A) Come on, it was a mysterious magical letter. Like he was gonna pass that up!
B) "All the way" was a relative term when you could teleport.
C) After careful consideration, he was fairly confident that he did not, in fact, owe Isaiah McClarent money.

...Okay, maybe "wary caution" was overstating things a bit.

Jack appeared a short distance from the bar, and approached openly. Okay, to be fair, he had been a bit more cautious about this sort of thing at prior points in his life. But acquiring the mystical Artefact Space-Cutter had altered his approach to unknown circumstances. After all, safety was always just a spell away.

(It's just barely possible that the combination of gaining magic without actually having much knowledge of magic or, particularly, what other magic-users could do and where he stood on the totem pole of relative magical capability might have bred just a tiny bit of overconfidence in our good teleporter.)

He didn't actually notice the wards and ghosts and such, because he hadn't actually thought to activate his Witchsight. Remember: kinda new at this.

Jack walked into the bar, answering the barkeep's question with an upnod. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone,
actually. Isaiah McClarent? Is he here yet?"

...The letter said nothing about it being a secret meeting. That's all I'm saying.

[Lord of Gifts]

Lara stepped into the bar just in time to catch Jack speaking. A look of alarm shot briefly across her face at his brazenness, before she caught herself. The letter hadn't mentioned how many would be at the meeting, but Lara had assumed that some degree of caution would be in order.

"A little discretion wouldn't kill you," she hissed, walking up beside him. Scanning the room, considering the numbers and disposition of the patrons, and all of the wards and artifacts that were painfully obvious to her witch sight, she continued. "Though half the people in here just might if you cause a fuss."
"At least they live up to every dive bar stereotype I can think of. Could be fun."

Moving towards the bar tender, she ordered a tequila and started assessing this other invitee.

[Thokk_Smash]

Mack walks into Freddy's bar with the gait of someone who knows what they're doing. It is, of course, a complete lie, and inside he is steadily going over what little information he has on what the hell he might be walking into.

~"Why do you fret so, Maximus?"~ the voice in his head asks in its normal "booming" tone (for as much as volume matters in mental affairs). In his mind's eye, Mack can almost see the ghost as he would have been in life: tall, broad-shouldered, with a full mustache and scars everywhere. ~"Your companions assured you that this fellow you are meeting is a sign of wonderful things to come!"~

Mack sighs in his mind. ~"Just 'cause the J's say something, doesn't mean it's true. Isn't that what being an Illusionist is all about?"~ he replies. Ever since becoming possessed, he's viewed the Velden siblings in a new light, one that both reinforced what he knew of them and made it so they were almost complete strangers.

Mack stretches a bit and uses the movement to look around the bar. His new vision burns with markings of magic that are still foreign after months of knowing about them. Mack is rather tall, with a wiry build and very attractive features: chiseled jaw, black hair, deep sea-green eyes.

"Whisky sour for me, a Jameson," he says, fishing out a bill to pay with. He surreptitiously eyes the others at the bar--the one guy had mentioned McClarent. Were there others invited besides him? He keeps to himself as he sips his drink, but stays near to the bar and the others there.

[ironrevenant]

Jack walked into the bar, answering the barkeep's question with an upnod. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone,
actually. Isaiah McClarent? Is he here yet?"

Sure, the Flamespeaker is waiting in the back there. Said not to let anyone interrupt him while he was speakin business.


Moving towards the bar tender, she ordered a tequila and started assessing this other invitee.


[COLOR="#DAA520"]"Whisky sour for me, a Jameson,"

The bartender slips underneath the bar and pulls out various bottles and glasses. He whistles, and the bottles begin pouring themselves into the glasses. With the witchsight, you see various ghosts interacting with the bottles, their bodies not bound by physical law. Several of them sport injuries that presumably led to their grisly deaths.

Ya drinks shouldn't be too long. These spirits are real quick at making them spirits.

[BarbieTheRPG]

Sitting down at the bar, Ori scanned the room casually until his grey eyes fell on the newcomers. At 6' and slender build, sporting a black suit, black dress shirt, black alligator shoes, and short, spiked silver hair, Oristales fit Freddie's. Almost.

Looking at Lara and the others Gideon says, "You folks here for McClarent, too? Business or pleasure? My name is Oristales Gideon."

Without looking Ori reaches for his drink when it's ready.

[Quellian-dyrae]

J.D. blinked once at the reprimand, and then again at the warning. Boy. She was...serious. He wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. So he went with "sarcastically". It was something of a go-to. "Well, I suppose I could have just sat down at the table of the most enigmatic-looking fellow in the bar and hoped he was my guy, but this way just seemed more practical."

"Cool cool, thanks. I'll wait," he told the bartender. It took him a few moments to actually notice the bottles moving, evidently of their own accord. Then he remembered he could actually see that sort of thing, and gave whatever part of his brain was responsible for doing that the swift kick it took to reboot it. Or whatever, that's how he felt it worked, anyway.

Annnd this place was totally filled with ghosts. He'd be honest, that's something he really wished he had figured out before walking in.

Fortunately, Jack Dodger had a really good poker face, so as far as everyone else was concerned, anyway, he kept his cool. Totally.

"I am, yeah," he answered Gideon's question, as he headed over to the bar and took a seat nearby, because A) that felt less awkward and B) this place was flipping full of ghosts and there was safety in numbers! "J.D." he introduced himself in return (Jack didn't give his full name out to just anyone, but he also didn't go to the trouble of inventing a pseudonym unless he had a particular reason to).

[Lord of Gifts]

Lara smirked at J.D's joke. "This is a mysterious magical bar in the middle of nowhere, that has the drinks served by ghosts, which incidentally must terrify any mundanes who happen to wander in. It wouldn't surprise me if that worked," she quipped back. To be fair, he had managed to gather all the invitees together. "This sort of place just sets me on edge, and we don't really know why we're here yet."

"Business though," she answered Gideon, while still admiring the spectral bartenders. They were quite an impressive sight. It did occur to her to wonder why they were spending their afterlives behind a bar, but one thing at a time. Taking her drink, she offered a hand to the others. "Lara. Pleased to meet you."
In the process of this, she tilted her head towards Mack. "And are you with us?"

[BarbieTheRPG]

Ori smiled, "J.D., Lara and the Jameson. Pleased to meet you."

[Thokk_Smash]

Mack would visibly have double-takes the ghosts: his guest hadn't had his Witchsight up fully, so Mack's first sight is the bottles simply floating in the air. Blinking, he takes a swig of his drink. He wonders if the ghosts can sense Ulfur, even as he can hear the ghost in his mind call out in greetings to the spectral bartenders.

"You can call me Mack," he says to the group, raising his glass in an informal greeting. "I reckon I'm here for the same reason y'all are, yeah. Damned if I know the 'why' of it all."

[BarbieTheRPG]

Gideon shifted in his chair, "You folks really have no idea why you're here? This isn't, as you've seen, the house of everyday activity. How .... do you know who you are? Have you guessed you might be seeing the world in a new degree because your vision is expanded .... for some purpose?"

Ori looked at this group as if he didn't understand the implications of where they were.

[ironrevenant]

As the group begins to introduce themselves to each other, you notice the bartender watching the door he had indicated with great interest. Sure enough after five minutes the door opens and three women wearing dark suits walk out, each visibly displaying their Artefacts.

You can enter now the bartender says, pointing to the now open door.

[Quellian-dyrae]

How do you know who you are? he had asked. Well, yeah, that could be the crux of it, for a guy like him. How many names has he given out to how many people, over the past thirteen years? How many demeanors, outlooks, even whole personalities, had he donned and doffed solely because he felt it might give him some nebulous advantage? And then there were the things he had done, of course, and not all of them things he was proud of. Things, even, that the child he had used to be would have said he wouldn't do, but which were entirely in character for the person he was pretending to be at the time. But could any of them be said to be the real him? He was inclined to think that the face he presented to his sister was his true one, but given how rarely it was shown to others, could he really say it wasn't just another mask for another audience? The power of the grifter was the ability to become anyone at a moment's notice, but it was also their curse. And that was all before even considering the power of his magic. With a gesture and a word, he could be anywhere in the world. Had he the inclination, he could abandon his old life entirely, reinvent himself at a whim anywhere on the planet he chose. The Jack Dodger who had been simply gone without a trace. And the way magic worked, it was questionable whether any without the Witchsight would even long remember his presence, should his absence be so sudden and complete. Was there really, when it came down to it, anything he could actually use to define himself? Anything that wasn't just an elaborate game of pretend?

"...Well, at least now I know whose table the hypothetical other me sat down at," J.D. commented to nobody in particular.

Ah, of course. Reflexive sarcasm. Truly, his one solid island amidst a vast and stormy sea of uncertainty.

"Sweet, thanks," J.D. said to the barkeep when he told them they could go in, hopping up and heading into the room.

[Lord of Gifts]

At Ori's comments, Lara looked quizzical. The ghosts were... an impressive trick, sure, but she had grown up with some degree of magic, so it wasn't that big a shock. Certainly, it had never really prompted her to consider questions of her identity. To her, the world just included the Art.

As for what they were all doing in Freddy's? Clearly it was to do with some issue of mystical significance. But why them, or what the particular issue was? Both still valid questions, that she couldn't answer yet.

Of course, the bartender then gestured for them to go through into the next room, and she followed behind J.D. Not very long to wait for an answer then.

[Thokk_Smash]

Mack gives the philosophical man an aside glance and a raised brow. No sh*t his vision's been expanded--he's got an honest-to-goodness ghost in his skull. Not like he'll tell these guys that. As for some purpose behind it...

"Life throws nothing but curveballs, man," he says as he downs the rest of his drink in one gulp. He stands when the bartender gestures to the other room. "Not all of 'em are strikes, and never a fat one down the middle. I just take my swings at the ones I can manage."

He follows J.D. and Lara into the room.

[ironrevenant]

The inside of the room is as smoky as the rest of the bar, if not more. The thing that catches your eyes first of all is a large dog in the corner of the room. It appears normal, but looking through the witchsight you see the bright flames that leap off its skin in place of fur. The dog bares its maw as you enter the room, growling until its master quiets it with a sharp whistle. Isaiah McClarent wears a pristine white suit, his long white hair arranged into a ponytail behind him and his handlebar moustache finely groomed.

Quiet, Ignis. You four must be those who I summoned to this fine establishment in my hour of need.

He speaks with a tone that indicates he is from the South and educated.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"I mean, there was a letter," J.D. answered, casing the room for signs of escape routes and/or valuables out of force of habit. He had no intention to steal anything. (And no longer actually needed escape routes.)

"Soooo what all are we doing here, exactly? Is there a job? The letter conveyed a distinct 'job' vibe."

[Lord of Gifts]

"Yes. Why does a famed practitioner such as yourself have need for a group of no-names? I’m curious to hear about the job, and why you need us for it. Especially a number of individuals, not an established group."

[ironrevenant]

McClarent is quiet for a second, eyes flickering between the four of you before he starts talking again.

Why do I have need for no-names? Because I have need for people whose names are not known. Those who can keep to the shadows and work for me in that realm. To answer your questions, the job that I need you to do is something that I cannot be connected to. Even meeting with you four is enough to muddy the waters. If you agree to my requests, then the rewards will be plentiful.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"I'm a big fan of rewards. Especially plentiful ones," J.D. said. He wasn't necessarily agreeing to anything yet, but it didn't hurt to express interest. Some people might take offense to being called a no-name, but well...that ship had sailed when he introduced himself as J.D. "What's the gig?"

[Thokk_Smash]

Mack eyes the obviously cultured, not to mention powerful, gentleman with wary interest. "It sounds a mite like you'll be asking us to break some magic laws," he says, his voice taking on a Minnesotan drawl on the vowels. "Or at least skirt 'em mighty close. Not that I'm objecting on principle, mind you. I'm just curious to know more about our imminent employment, is all, like J.D."

[ironrevenant]

McClarent sighs, rubbing his face. The job will be simple to start you off. There are a group of mediums in the north of Alberquerque that have been causing me trouble in some parts of my business. If you were to take care of these folks, I'd be mighty glad and you'd have my gratitude and the use of the resources that the McClarent family owns.

[Quellian-dyrae]

...Okay yeah, J.D. was gonna need a bit more than that. Not that he hadn't done more than his share of things that most people would consider...let's be generous and say "dubious". But when you have a cloak-and-dagger backroom meeting in a haunted bar with a guy who explicitly says that despite your mighty magical powers of instantaneous teleportation and...well, whatever the rest of this crew had...that his main reason for wanting you was that you were under the radar, and then he says the job is to "take care of" some people...look, if your mind doesn't go to a certain place you're either laughably naive or hopelessly inexperienced with popular culture.

"Er, who are they, exactly? And what have they been doing that's been giving you trouble? And, and this is important, what exactly do you mean when you say 'take care of' them? I really can't stress enough how absolutely critical a precise definition of that particular phrase is here." J.D. was many things, sure. But one thing he absolutely was not and had no intention to ever become was a killer. There were lines.

On the flip side, "bring down a group of powerful mediums" was kiiiiinda on his bucket list. So, you know. He wasn't inherently opposed to a trial run, is what I'm saying.

[Lord of Gifts]

Honestly, Lara couldn't say she was surprised by the job. Given the meeting location and the manner of their summons, deniable dirty work had seemed the simplest explanation. Might not be exactly conducive to building the sort of reputation that would have helped with her detective work, but she wouldn't have shown if she wasn't alright with that prospect. Certainly, aiding a family as powerful as the McClarents had its own set of benefits.

On the other hand, the information they had so far was frustratingly vague, and depending on some details it may be potentially unsavory. Sure, she carried a gun, but it was a last resort, and a nasty surprise for spirits unfamiliar with modern tech. She wasn't keen to use it on a person, especially as a first port of call. Plus, she didn't know what her prospective team mates could do, or how they would work together, and if these mediums could trouble Isiah then she wanted to make sure it wasn't out of their league.

"J.D is right, we need more info, especially on that point. Even disregarding morality, these are mediums. Certain methods might find a way of coming back to bite us. But don't get me wrong, I am interested."
She leaned in conspiratorially. "Just tell me more."

[Thokk_Smash]

Mack nods at their new employer's words. In the back of his mind, he wonders whether the Mediums would be able to sense his new partner's presence. "I would also beg your pardon and request more info," he says as he makes himself more comfortable in his position. In his mind, Ulfer continues to make remarks that Mack simply lets flow in one metaphorical ear and out the other.