Cartels, Cigars, Conspiracy: A Hunter The Vigil Game

[Demonjazz]

The sun bakes the sidewalk, people bang their air conditioners as they sweat in their rooms, a jogger wipes the sweat off their brow as they run another three miles, ground beef hits a grill as someone pulls out fresh tortillas from the oven, a cold beer is opened.
A man knocks on your door, a massive black pickup truck in your driveway. He's built like a linebacker and it looks like his nose got broke three or five times throughout his life. He's rolling a cigar between his scarred fingers, a plain wedding band taking up space next to a much larger class ring. He scratches a burgeoning beard as he talks to you. His expression is a little hard to read as his reflective sunglasses glint harshly in the midday sun. "How're you doing neighbor?" The man, you know didn't live anywhere near you. But it was a code you were familiar with. "How'd you like to share a beer with me." It wasn't much of a question.
The man was James Dorian. You've all got a call from him, telling you that you had been handpicked as part of a retaliatory task force against the shadows of the night. Some of you have suspicions that handpicked may have been an exaggeration. Either way, he insisted that you not talk to him for the first week you were here. Something about it being more secure that way. Your week after moving here was likely hectic with the normal moving anxieties.
James says that he didn't want to explain himself twice, he also insisted that you not ask him any questions about The Hunt until all of three of you were in his massive truck. Otherwise, while he seemed a bit distant, he was otherwise friendly to those that arrived before the others. He doesn't smoke in the car if you ask him not too, but he does keep his cigar out and will chew on it occasionally.

[Godzillarich]

As soon as everyone got into the truck, Blart slammed his foot down. "Okay you said you want to talked about vampires? Does this have anything to do with Shortstuff. The only reason I'm even here is because my sources have been running dry." He then grabbed the bottle of of beer from his backpack and started drinking it.

[Demonjazz]

"Shortstuff? The guy who took out your squad, right?" James didn't wait for an answer. "We haven't got any leads on him. Usually, no one survives any encounters with his gang so it's hard to get anything on him. The last we heard about the gang is that they moved out of the country. Too many troopers on their tail." James chomped harder on his cigar. "And the cops over there wouldn't even do anything if they did know it was a vampire."
James looked at Blart opening the beer, he chomped harshly on his cigar. He quickly pulled over nearly hitting the sidewalk. "Throw that damn thing out! Open container laws, you idiot!"

[Garjel_blah]

Winona, who sat squashed against the car door by Blart's bulk, scowled at the fat man.

"I thought you were supposed to be a cop, boomer," she told him venomously. Her attitude contrasted jarringly with the bow, pink hair, and Love is War tee hat she'd chosen to wear for the occasion. Though it did somewhat match the sheathed machete she had swinging from the waistband of her Daisy Dukes.

[Megadraco]

"Can you guys please not start fighting?" Said the fourth member of the group, Tomás. "I went to sleep late last night, and shouts are not going to help my headache."

He rubbed his temple with one hand, peering at the rest of the crew through his glasses. His eyes stopped on James.

"Anyway, the three of us are here for a reason. Do you want to tell us what that is, or do you want to wait until we've reached... Wherever it is this truck is taking us?"

[Demonjazz]

James waited patiently as Blart threw away the beer.
"Ah, see. I knew there was a reason that I hired you, Tommy." He tapped on his wheel as he passed three people carrying bats outside of a corner shop. "So if anyone who ain't a Hunter asks you. The reason we hang out so much is that you two." He points to Tomas and Winona. "You're impoverished youths. And I'm teaching you survival skills, and lessons in character as you work on my ranch for some extra money. I'm retired, but the ranch still is technically owned by me. You will be getting paychecks so that our paperwork checks out. You are only getting 20 hours though cause I ain't exactly rich. " James eyed the three people. One was slouched against a mailbox near the front of the store, the other is on the left corner of the street, and the third is in an alleyway to the right.
"Don't worry about the others on the ranch. They're on the level, and if anyone asks what you do there. Tell them you're in charge of some grunt work. Milking the cows, feeding the pigs, cleaning all the **** up. You get the idea. Don't feel inclined to actually work, but I would appreciate the help if you offered. And It'd help with your cover." James makes a right turn
"If anyone asks why you moved here. Tell them a sob story about like... I dunno, being homeless or some ****. If people think you had a rough time than they usually won't pry."
"Blart, if anyone asks you're doing some community work as well. Watching out for these kids here, making sure they don't break any of those laws. Plus, I'm a drinking buddy of yours now. 'Cause that offer for a beer is still standing. Ralph's a hangout for hunters. A lot of hunters come through wanting to pass on information, and there's a members-only room in the back. The password is changed every month, but right now it's Catfish." James makes another right turn. Two more muscular people covered in tattoos are on the side of the street. One is carrying a crowbar. "Now you can't go shouting about it, and it's usually a mostly business affair there. If you get so drunk that you start blabbing than you probably ain't gonna get let in again. Feel free to get a bit more raucous in the normal bar."
James adjusted his mirror. "And you," He pointed towards Winona "Lose the blade. Keep it near you, usually in the car. But don't carry it on your person unless you know you're gonna use it. Open Carry attracts the wrong type of attention. You'll be the first suspect if anything happens. Try to wear a more fashionable color than black if you get a coat going past your knees. If any of you need a concealed carry license than I know a guy who offers the courses, and you can get them cheap."
"Oh, and, I guess none of you know each other's names. Pretty girl in pink is Winona Tate, E-Celebrity, 2nd amendment activist, and uh... Katana enthusiast. The guy with the glasses and the bags under his eyes is Thomas Lombardi, Occult Expert, anthropology student, decent soccer player. The rude cop is Blart Paul... Expert at being a cop."

[Garjel_blah]

Winona glared at the back of James's seat but did as he requested, removing the machete from her hip and sliding it into a seat pocket.

"Pleasure to meet you boys," she said, somewhat sulkily, "but I don't think Tom's question has been answered yet. What are we meeting at your ranch for exactly, Mr Dorian?"

[Demonjazz]

A man eyes the car from underneath a ballcap, casually hitting a football against his hands. James continues answering questions. "Huh? Oh, I guess I should have made myself more clear. We're not going to the ranch. We're going to Ralph's. Stay Informed, Stay Alive as the saying goes. And other hunters are the easiest way to get information. Be careful though, people can get a bit territorial. It usually doesn't get serious, but if you're following the same lead as someone then you should try and keep them informed of everything you're doing."

[Garjel_blah]

Winona nodded, watching the ball man cautiously as they passed.
"A bar. Cool."
She then frowned, leaning passed Blart's rotund belly to stare at Tomás.
"Are you even old enough to drink at a bar?"

[Megadraco]

Tomás frowned back at Winona.

"I am old enough, thank you very much. Though," he added, somewhat under his breath. "I don't... Particularly enjoy most kinds of alcohol."

He then looked back at James.

"So, boss, and I hope you don't mind if I call you that, at least for the time being. Is there any sort of specific intel we're looking for, or are we just going to... Get a feel for the place, so to speak?"

[Godzillarich]

Paul laid back on his seat, showing slight annoyance from the two kids talking between him. He looked at James "I just want ask if you can't get me Shortstuff why should I even join your group? All I care about is is ripping that piece of **** to pieces."

[Demonjazz]

James made another right turn. Two men wearing red bandanas sat down on a bench smoking cigarettes. "I think we might be asking around for something in particular..." James repositioned his rear-view mirror. "But that's depending on what's up ahead."
He than turned to Blart. "I never said that we weren't going after Shortstuff. I said that we weren't ready to go after him. Even a small town like ours has a lot on their plate. We'll be going after Shortstuff soon enough, but that doesn't mean we're going be abandoning our duties. The Vigil isn't about revenge. And if you try to make it about revenge then you're going down a path that you won't like the ending of."

[Godzillarich]

Paul leaned forward. "Fine I will join your little group, but by the end of this I want Shortstuffs head on a pike." Paul then looked at the two kids beside him. "I will remind you I am a cop. There will be no underage drinking today."

[Demonjazz]

"So, I don't know if you noticed. But we went in a circle. I know you guys aren't used to this city, but there's usually not this many people with weapons out in the public. I was doing a permiter sweep, and I think those tattooed punks noticed me. But more importantly." He pointed to the store they were coming up too. It had the three thugs with baseball bats outside the front of it, and the curtains to the store windows were drawn. It appeared to sell novelty t-shirts from what could be seen. "A hunter works there. And I don't know if this shady **** has anything to do with her, but I know she told me that she saw the owner giving a wad of bills to a gang member."
James stopped in front of the store. He reached below his seat, and pulled out a crowbar. "Don't do anything illegal. But be ready for a fight."
As James exited the vehicle he was accosted by one of the thugs. "Hey! You lost old man, or you just dumb! Didn't I just see your narq truck coming through earlier!"
"Nah, I was just looking for some shade."
"Yeah, whatever you say, ese. The place is closed, so how about you get going!"

[Godzillarich]

Paul got out of the car, walking casually out. "You seem to be lost little kids, it's dangerous on the street alone." Paul then pulled out a flyer with a cartoon fox saying "Remember the danger and don't talk to strangers."
"It's best for us to be on our way"

[Demonjazz]

The lead thug looked down... And then farther down as he looked at the short cop showing them posters. "Hey, who you callin' a kid, Shortstuff! Hey, Pendejo! Do you call minigolf just golf or is it extra-large golf for ya!" The two thugs behind him laughed though half-heartedly. "Get out of here ya NARC! I told you the shop's closed so how 'bout you scram!"
James squared up his shoulders "Well I'm telling you that I was supposed to meet with the owner today." He gently beat his crowbar against his hand. "Yunno, help open up some crates."
The thug looked past James. "That so huh? Well you're gonna have to wait like the rest of us. Dude's in a meeting right now, can't make you no shirts." He looked over at Winona "Hey! What's a fine thing like you hanging out with these punks?! How 'bout you ditch these pipsqueaks and get with a real man!" The two thugs behind him made what could charitably be called lewd gestures. James's hand tightened around his crowbar, and he forced himself between the lead thug and the rest of the group.

[Godzillarich]

Paul got between them and Winona. "Hey, that is no way to treat a young one such as yourself." Paul slightly push the thug as he pulled out his badge. "Now you're going to apologize to her and allow us the check the building, I have a warrant." (btw Paul is lying through his teeth about having a warrant). "You young ones don't want to disrespect the law, right?"

[Demonjazz]

Blart Paul has failed a challenge!
There is a second of silence when Blart brought out his badge. A second of palpable silence, the air full of tension... Before a round of laughter between the three thugs was had. "You're blowing out your ass ese! You ain't got no warrant! And we ain't doing nothing illegal, pipsqueak! So how 'bout you and the rest of your midgets take a hike, huh?"
James squared up his shoulders more. He looked seconds away from belting the thug across his face. "We aren't going anywhere. So how about you move or I'll be the one doing the moving!"
The thug got up closer to James's face. "Hey, James. I heard you spent a week down at the jail, a few months ago. I wouldn't want that temper of yours to get the best of you like it did last time. They might not take it easy on you this time."

[Garjel_blah]

Winona stood back besides the car, her blank expression the opposite of yet as steady as the beaming anime faces on her tee.

"Can't we just," she began, making a point of pretending that the bouncer's catcalls had never been uttered, "see this guy after his meeting? You said he's in a meeting right?"

[Demonjazz]

"What? You can't!" The thug stopped "I mean, you like-" The leader of the group seemed flustered as he couldn't really think of an answer for this. "I mean... Yeah, I guess you can!" He shouted obviously frustrated. He fell backward into a sitting position on a stoop. Tapping his bat idly against the wall. The two thugs standing awkwardly near the door. James standing awkwardly across from them with his crowbar.
A minute later there could be heard vague shouting from inside the shop. From where the group was standing there wasn't much that could be made out from the voices than it being heated but the mooks next to the door look concerned before the clear shout of "THAT'S NOT MY ****ING PROBLEM!" There's a loud creak and one can briefly hear a panicked cry before a deafening crash and the ground shaking. The three thugs scrambling onto the sidewalk as a section of the adobe wall showed visible cracks from something slamming into it. Before anyone could get their bearings a jangle of keys and a bell ringing was heard as a tall man stomped his way out of the store. He was dressed in a black hoodie, a skeletal bandana pulled up over his mouth and a pair of dark sunglasses, not many defining features could be made out beside the flash of a tattoo across his right knuckle.
The hooded man stopped as he saw the four civilians in front of him. His stance hardened as he turned towards the lead thug. "I thought I told you to deal with anyone coming through here." He said coldly.
"You told me not to break the law!" The thug shot back defensive but obviously shaken
The hooded man cracked his neck as he looked back towards the group of civilians. "Say anything about this, and-" The man ran a finger across his neck before letting out a short cold laugh. He turned his back as he started to walk away.

[Godzillarich]

"Wait up!" Paul yelled to The Tall Man. "What the hell was that all about and who are you?"

[Demonjazz]

The hooded man stopped for a second. He didn't turn his head around. "I'm feeling charitable today. Let's make a deal, I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours. You'll have to figure out the rest for yourself."
James snapping back into focus gave Blart a warning look. "Don't do that." He said very seriously.

[Godzillarich]

Paul simply stood there we're good 10 seconds the area became completely silent waiting for his answer. "My name is Steven Crutchfield and you?"

[Demonjazz]

"Calvera." Was all the man said.

[Garjel_blah]

The man calling himself Calvera departed, and Winona watched him go. Then she opened the car door, retrieved her sheathed machete from the seat pocket, and reattached it onto the waistband of her shorts. She passed by James, acknowledging him with a placating nod, and walked towards the open shop door.

[Demonjazz]

The chime of a bell was heard as Winona burst into the shop. The Shop was a mess, most prominently there lay a large steel desk roughly four meters long laying against a wall, the cash register over-turned where the contents of the drawers lay mixed with bits of plaster and dust from the wall. Where the desk lay there was a large pile of clothing scattered at the base of it, the entire right half of the room had bent racks of clothing laying across the floor many pieces torn or damaged. Other than the large dents in the desk it appeared though that nothing else in the room had been damaged, and otherwise appeared to be a normal if tacky T-shirt shop.
A man stood in a spot that from the marks on the floor and the large nails sticking up from it could be easily guessed to be where the steel desk once stood. He was a portly older man, younger than James but old enough to be your dad. It took a moment for him to notice Winona still in shock from the events. He snapped to attention though and shouted "We're closed!" and rushed towards Winona making gestures for her to leave.
Near the man stood a woman with her mouth drawn into a pensive line, she appeared calm as she stood with her hands crossed at her front. Unlike the manager's loud shirt from one of the more touristy sections of his store. She stood in stark contrast in the dress typically associated with Mennonite or Quaker women. A full length plain black dress and her hair pulled back into a bun and covered by a headscarf. Her boots were more worn than would expect from such a woman though.

[Garjel_blah]

Winona stood her ground, holding up her hands to appear nonthreatening.

"It's okay sir," she said in her most disarmingly demure and empathetic voice, "I'm not here to cause trouble. Are you alright? Man, you look like you've seen a ghost, why don't you have a sit down over here."

She took him gently by the shoulder and gestured at a chair, nestled between two racks of novelty New Mexico tee shirts.

[Demonjazz]

Winona Tate has Succeeded a Challenge. All rolls to extract any information out of the manager gain +1 to their dice pool
The shopkeeper not really wanting to a fight in the first place fell into the chair fairly quickly. "Good heavens. They simply do not make things like they used to. That desk was screwed down tight and that brute simply tore it out of the ground. Shoddy workmanship, I say. Just like this building." The man got back up to see James entering the store. "James! James, am I glad to see you. I had an... Altercation with a customer. You wouldn't mind helping clean up the place would you?"
The woman in black came up behind the manager. "James, you didn't call the police did you?"
"Yes, I assure you. Everything is under control. No need for that. Though... You wouldn't happen to know anyone willing to buy these torn shirts would you?"
"Well the deal might be a bit bad, but I think I know someone. And I didn't call the police. Take this to the court and they'll have you up to your ears in legal fees." He grabbed one end of the large desk signalling for the others to help him. "Oh, and meet my new two new... Farmhands." He said pointing to Winona and Tomas. There was a knowing look between him and the woman in black.

[Megadraco]

Tomás had gotten ot of the car, looking at the hooded man as he left.

"Did that guy just called himself... Bald-head?" he said under his breath, before walking into the store, right behind James.

After the introduction, he walked up to the woman in black and offered her a handshake.

"Pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."

[Demonjazz]

The dour woman's expression remained mostly emotionless though a small smile could be seen. "It's always a pleasure to see the youth getting into the farm life" As Tomas took her hand, it was clear that near the wrists of her hands were small round wounds on both her hands just below her palms. She shook his hand exactly twice before letting go.

"So what exactly was that all about, anyway?" You could hear James questioning the shopkeeper across the room.
"So I was trying to explain to that man, the guy in the hood that I... Couldn't make certain shipping arrangments. He wanted a uh... Very large order, you see. So I was trying to work out a different arrangement when he... Well he got a bit, uh. Heated."
"Huh, that's a lot to get worked up about just for shirts."
"Yeah, uh, yeah it really is."

[Garjel_blah]

Winona raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure it wasn't some other order he was interested in? Maybe some more spooky masks? I dunno, I have kinda a hard time believing that this guy could get so cut up about, like... This."

She held up a T-shirt that had a green chili and a red chili carefully positioned at breast level, with a comic sans slogan underneath saying "Which do you prefer?".

"Can I have this one by the way? It's perfect."

[Demonjazz]

The shopkeeper looked a little tense. He hesitated to say anything for several seconds.
"Yeah, it does seem a little strange, John." James pressured onto the shopkeeper.
He gulped before saying. "Listen, I can't talk about it here. 8 pm, corner of Poplar and Iron."
"I'll be coming as well."
John looked alarmed but said nothing instead focusing on Winona. "Oh, that's a very popular shirt actually. Of course, just help me get the register and everything back up and we'll be able to give it to you for a cheap fifteen dollars."

[Garjel_blah]

"I'll agree to that," said Winona, removing a worn My Chemical Romance wallet from her pocket and thumbing out a trio of Honest Abes for the shaken shop keeper.
"You boys can find me in the changing room," she told James and Tomás, sauntering off. You could just distinguish the artificial camera clicks through the door, as she updated her followers on the newest wardrobe addition.

[Demonjazz]

"Please, John. Would you mind leaving us for a bit." The woman in black said.
"You do look a bit queasy, old buddy. Fresh air could do you some good. Go on lunch, I hear the tacos down on eighth are pretty good." James subtly manhandled the shopkeeper putting a strong hand on his shoulder as he started walking him out.
"But, I can't just leave my shop in this condition.
"Don't worry, we'll clean it up for you, no worries. Come on, I went to high school with you John. I wouldn't pull a fast one on you." The shopkeeper looked concerned but continued out the door. Most likely due to the much larger James pushing him.

The woman in black waited patiently as John left the store. "... My name is Mary Marfield, Second ranking member of the Tribulation Milita Fifth Pentecostal Branch. So," She made her way to the large crack in the wall. "We know that thug wasn't a vampire, but he's certainly not one of God's Children. Does anyone have any other guesses?"
"Titus report any Werewolf activity lately?"
"Not since four months ago. Though that doesn't mean we should rule the Lupine out."

[Megadraco]

Tomás placed a hand on his chin, thinking.

"When he... Did whatever he did, cracking the wall... Did he transform, or look... Inhuman, in any way? Because otherwise," he added, pushing up his glasses. "We can probably scratch the "werewolf" theory."

He looked puzzled for a moment.

"He also kinda smelled of dirt, didn't he? But that could mean any number of things..." He trailed off, gaze lost in the distance.

[Demonjazz]

Mary shook her head. "No, he didn't transform in any way. At least none that I could see. My guess for the dirt is that he was digging graves, given his outfit."
"Well... ****, that leaves a lot of options open. He was covered up, but he looked human enough... Enhanced human perhaps?"
"That doesn't exactly narrow down the list though. That could mean any number of things, dark rituals, vampire blood, cultist, hedge mage, a particularly uncreative Awakened if we're really unlucky. He could be the lackey to a number of different beings."

[Godzillarich]

"His name was Calvera." Paul interrupted as he grabbed a flask of whiskey he had in his pocket. "He told me that when I asked him, does that name ring a bell?"

[Demonjazz]

"Calvera's the name of an Old Western Villian. He gave you a fake name." James said
"Or he's going by a fake name. What with being a criminal and all."

[Demonjazz]

There was a bit more back and forth as everyone set to work cleaning the place back up. About thirty minutes passed by without much incident other than a callous remark to Winona about her outfit from Mary. Mary's recount of events wasn't much help to find out what happened. By her account, Calvera walked into the shop and was belligerent to any questions before he went to the back with the shopkeeper and after about half an hour came shouting through the door as he backed John into a corner saying something about him ****ing him over before John said that it wasn't possible to get the shipment there on time. That was when Calvera ripped the desk out of the ground and threw it at the shopkeeper... Obviously he missed.
As things wrapped up everyone got back into the truck and trailed off into the outskirts of town stopping at "Ralph's Reptile Restaurant" a large neon sign of a green lizard drinking a bottle of corona hanging out of a window. It was a well-worn bar the floorboards heavily scuffed and rebuffed in several different places, it was rather large with a couple of pool tables that usually had four or five people surrounding them at any time. James stopped at the bar and started ordering drinks for everyone, the bartender who you presumed was the titular Ralph, he was a jovial man that was quick to a joke. Though perhaps not as funny as he thought himself. As James had everyone run through a couple of security hoops, Ralph pulled out his keys and had everyone step through a door titled "VIP section" as everyone walked into a well-lit hallway, drinks in hand the door could be heard locking behind them.
"Don't worry, it's just to make sure no one stumbles in on something they shouldn't," James said as he showed them down the hallway to the right room. "If you ever need to get out of here in a hurry it's two lefts than a right to the outside, It's two rights and a left back to the bar with the key inside the Russian doll to get back. Just one right to the bathroom."

The room they walked into looked like... Well, a real hunting lodge. Large comfy chairs and polished wooden tables set up in various locations. A taxidermied bear stood not far from an unlit fireplace, and the walls were lined with trout and deer. Two helpful signs pointed where to put your trash and where to put your dishes.
The main hub of activity was five people who seemed engaged in some sort of debate. A large and burly tattooed woman seemed the most active debater, she was wearing a floral sundress that showed she had tattoos all down her arms, back, and down just below her knees. The dress itself didn't seem to fit her very well, and her intimidating appearance gave her the look of a bear being stuffed into a business suit. Near her stood two men, a dark-skinned man with black hair wearing a flannel shirt and a denim vest with a pocket bible strapped to his belt, he wore a baseball cap with a feather pinned to its side. And a man in an immaculate black business suit but with unkempt long dark a prickly looking stubble, he seemed mostly uninterested in the happenings going on around him.
Across from the tattooed woman sat a woman that despite the blistering heat outside looked like she stepped out of a Dark Academia Aesthetic board wearing a turtleneck, Oxfords, and a thick plaid skirt. She sipped on red wine and seemed to be trying to patiently explain something to the others in the group. Near her stood a man a large man in a white button-up and a red tie, he had a pistol holstered at his hip. It was immediately recognizable as a police holster and Blart would recognize the man immediately as Captain James Brenton head of the Arson division in Las Cruces having already made a name for himself as having a remarkably high success rate for an arson division. Which is to say a still rather low success rate.

A woman called out to Winona "Hey, bitch!" She shouted in a friendly way, blowing out a cloud of smoke from her vape with a couple of neon lights on the side. Everyone looked mildly annoyed. It was Vicky Torbin, The "Null Synper". A friend of Winona that shared an equal interest in the macabre and scene culture. She was more of a rave kid of course, but she and Winona bonded a lot over talking about how annoying their online followers could be, herself running a cam job on the side. "Saw some of your posts and decided to swing by on my way to a contact."

A mousy balding man sat in the corner. He looked awkward and out of place and honestly on the verge of going into a crying fit any second.

[Godzillarich]

"Anyway kids I'm going to go drinking for little bit, I've had a rough day of doing nothing. " Paul told the others before he turned to go to the bar. "Excuse me sir I would like a fresh pint of your best alcohol." He asked the bartender.

[Garjel_blah]

A woman called out to Winona "Hey, bitch!" She shouted in a friendly way, blowing out a cloud of smoke from her vape with a couple of neon lights on the side. Everyone looked mildly annoyed. It was Vicky Torbin, The "Null Synper". A friend of Winona that shared an equal interest in the macabre and scene culture. She was more of a rave kid of course, but she and Winona bonded a lot over talking about how annoying their online followers could be, herself running a cam job on the side. "Saw some of your posts and decided to swing by on my way to a contact."

"Ooh sup babe," Winona greeted Vicky, walking while plucking at her new shirt. "Yeah isn't this so cute?"
She leaned in to hug the other hunter, taking a long pull on the glittering vape when offered. Then she said, in a lower voice, "I got it at that little shirt place in town, I was seeing a contact of my own there actually."

[Demonjazz]

Ralph looked at Blart, a bit strangely. "My best alcohol doesn't come in pints, and it's been aged so it ain't fresh either." Ralph poured a double scotch for him. "That'd be sixteen dollars."

"I know, the shirt's not really my style, but it's like totally killer on you." When Winona mentioned a contact. Vicky looked excited. "Can't wait for your next livestream, babe. Got any idea what you're going after? Cause like if you got any deets, I could probably get some low down if they've got a digital footprint."

Meanwhile, inside the VIP Room, the debate that the five people were having could be better made out. "I'm not saying that the supernatural doesn't exist. It's just the belief in this matter has nothing to do with the belief in God. It just doesn't hold up to scientific scrutiny, and we sustain judgment until it does." The woman in the turtleneck said, the unmistakable words of someone from the Null Mysteriis.
"Come on, I know you've seen some real Old Testament **** before. Possession, demons, witches, pillars of salt." The tattooed woman said. "You can't deny that there's some truth in that."
"I mean there's also truth in other holy texts... And Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Slayer." The Captain said awkwardly.
"Exactly. Basing all of your hunting off one book is simply reckless." The woman said between a sip of wine. "After all, just because I believe in vampires doesn't mean that I'd believe in extraterrestrials."
"Oh, aliens have visited Earth." The disinterested man in a business suit said. "It was an awful sight. Seeing them gasp for air as the Men in Black came rolling in."
"Wait are we implying that Lincoln killing vampires is real or just the existence of vampires?" The man with a feather in his cap asked.
"I mean, honestly. I think at least half of the Presidents had to have been Hunters." Captain Brenton said.

[Megadraco]

Tomás simply walked up to the central group and started listening in, quietly and somewhat awkwardly, but with clear interest in his eyes.

[Garjel_blah]

"I know, the shirt's not really my style, but it's like totally killer on you." When Winona mentioned a contact. Vicky looked excited. "Can't wait for your next livestream, babe. Got any idea what you're going after? Cause like if you got any deets, I could probably get some low down if they've got a digital footprint."

Winona smirked, exhaling smoke.

"Well," she began slowly, "he's a boy. I think, hard to tell with these things. Called himself Calvera, but it was to our face so probably just a scary pseudonym. Nothing obviously screwy with his appearance. Big guy. Masked his face with a skull patterned bandana and sunglasses under a hoodie. Some kind of tattoo on his right hand but I didn't get a good look at the design."

She paused for dramatic effect.

"He also cracked a brick wall by power-yeeting a desk at it. A bolted down desk. Only way we know he's even supernatural honestly, no one's that big."

She paused again, this time genuinely.

"Oh yeah, my new pet nerd," Winona indicated Tomás, who she saw was now loitering awkwardly at the fringe of the debating group, "said he thought this guy smelled like dirt."

[Godzillarich]

"I'll take it." Paul yelled as he slammed his money onto the table "Now bring it here."

[Demonjazz]

"I mean, to start with. I haven't seen any creatures be hurt by the power of faith or any blessed objects. So you're Sacred Book obviously has some holes in it."
"Your research obviously has some holes in it. Ghosts, spirits, demons. I've seen all of them be affected by those things."
"Have you? Have you seen all of them be affected? Or could it be that you've seen a select group that is affected by some sort of unknown attribute of these things."
"Proof of some is proof enough." The man in the feathered cap said coldly. "We've seen holy water eat through the flesh of a demon before. That demon was biblical." He emphasized each word of his last sentence.
"A little faith goes a long way." The Captain said "It's possible that faith itself has a supernatural quality to it for some creatures. It'd explain how various cultures have been able to fight off spirits, and even things like lucky objects."
The woman sipping her wine made a huffing sound. "More likely that people attribute their faith to their victories than the other way around. My research suggests that the more likely explanation is that whatever force animates these non-corporeal or semi-corporeal beings to be able to exist or access multiple realities or state of being has some sort of negative effect in our current state. This effect manifests in the form of 'weaknesses' or 'banes'. Simply put various objects or rules seem to have an ability to restrict their access to The Supernatural Force which can manifest in aggressive wounds to their body, lack of access to the traditional atomic space or removing preternatural defenses. These 'banes' though seem to manifest unpredictably among creatures that live in what we may call the 'spirit realm'. Demon-like creatures, ghosts, etc. This is how certains phrases, words, or objects such as salt or yes, blessed water may have an effect."

Vicky quickly wrote down a couple of notes on a burner phone and then shut it. "Yeah, that's actually a pretty decent lead, I've definitely worked with less. Assuming his clothes weren't used for normal occasions the dirt could suggest his cover job has something to do with gardening or his crimes have got something to do with graves. Did you get any photos of him or the guys he was with though?"

Ralph slid the drink over to Blart. "Knock yourself out."

[Garjel_blah]

Vicky quickly wrote down a couple of notes on a burner phone and then shut it. "Yeah, that's actually a pretty decent lead, I've definitely worked with less. Assuming his clothes weren't used for normal occasions the dirt could suggest his cover job has something to do with gardening or his crimes have got something to do with graves. Did you get any photos of him or the guys he was with though?"

"I was kind of hoping the dirt smell could mean that he's a zombie or something. Like freshly crawled from the grave. That'd be fun."

Winona considered a moment.

"I didn't get any photos myself... Kinda sloppy, yeah. Although in my defence, if that guy'd seen me with a camera then I don't think I'd have made it here. I can try to get some CCTV. We're meeting the owner of the desk tonight for a little talk..."

[Demonjazz]

Vicky put a hand on Winona's shoulder. "Like... Babe, I'm gonna level with you. I'm pretty sure that zombies like... Don't exist. I mean like, there were those guys who saw a dude jump off a building and leave unharmed and went a little insane afterward, and like Eddy said that he saw someone rise from their grave, but come on, he was like almost passed out drunk when that happened. I'm 90% certain that zombies don't exist." After that heart to heart talk, The Nullsynper exchanged a couple of different burner accounts and phones.
"And hey, Interrobang is gonna be playing in Albuquerque in a month, I'll send you some free tickets in the mail when we start selling!"

[Garjel_blah]

Vicky put a hand on Winona's shoulder. "Like... Babe, I'm gonna level with you. I'm pretty sure that zombies like... Don't exist. I mean like, there were those guys who saw a dude jump off a building and leave unharmed and went a little insane afterward, and like Eddy said that he saw someone rise from their grave, but come on, he was like almost passed out drunk when that happened. I'm 90% certain that zombies don't exist." After that heart to heart talk, The Nullsynper exchanged a couple of different burner accounts and phones.
"And hey, Interrobang is gonna be playing in Albuquerque in a month, I'll send you some free tickets in the mail when we start selling!"

Winona beamed warmly.

"Aww thanks so much! I can't wait. You guys are so amazing live. Thanks Vicky, you're the best."

The DJ left Ralph's, and Winona's smile flat-lined. Blart was sipping his fresh pint of alcohol when she appeared at the counter next to him, fuming.

"****ing Vicky. What a ****ing bitch. What does she know about zombies? There could be real zombies out there! I've seen footage. Oooh babe I'm gonna level with you, just, like, shut the **** up. Fugly slut. Your band sucks."

She glanced up at the available drinks, then at Blart's order.

"Jesus Christ boomer, $16? You have to sell an investment property for that? Oh yeah, James is buying. Nice. Hey, can I get what he's having?"

[Godzillarich]

Paul looked at his partner as he put down his drink. "First of all this is my alone time. Second of all when did I say I was paying for your drink? thirdly why are you so hyper we've been traveling all day. Fourthly I'm pretty sure you're not old enough to drink, fifthly please don't use outdated memes on me, it makes you come off as trying too hard. And lastly watch your language."

[Demonjazz]

"Ah, well personally she seemed fine to me," Ralph said pouring another double scotch from his top-shelf. "She did play her music a bit too loud, and I've never really been a big fan of vape, but fine otherwise."


Meanwhile, inside the VIP room. The other members of the debating group seemed to have some... General understanding of what the woman with her wine was talking about, but it was obvious that she was kind of losing them on the details. "I mean... So you have no explanation for why blessed water has an effect on some demons." The tattooed woman said.
The academic pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, that's not really what I was saying-"
"I mean you said they developed at random, but what makes you think that there aren't just certain groups of spirits that develop certain banes." The man in the feathered cap said.
"Which could mean that all demons are biblical, you're just bad at categorizing." The man in the suit said.
"Hey now. Give the little lady some time to speak." The Captain said.
The woman gave a rude look to being called a little lady but continuned "Thank you, James. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted." She took a large swig of wine. "According to reports, there are certain classifications of non-atomic life forms. Though they'll often imitate each other, and can become quite vague at the boundaries. But we've gone into a tentative three classification system. Though there are of course alternative methods. Life forms that either have or appear to have the memories of the deceased, Ghosts. They tend to develop weaknesses or banes related to their past life and are often anchored to objects or places. They're the ones that we must understand of course. Hauntings are a dime a dozen nowadays. Fairly cut and dry distinction most of the time.
The other two though, are far more... Vague. We've had to rely a lot on more anecdotal evidence. But there seem to be creatures that embody human ideas. Most likely related to something similar to the idea of the Noosphere. Though not nearly as barbaric, and simpleton. Simply put, it seems that human thoughts release a form of energy which the creatures of this realm are susceptible too, certain high-level ideas having more power in this realm and affected the growth of these so-called 'spirits'. They obviously develop banes related to these high-level concepts they embody.
Lastly, though whether this is a true distinction or not can not be truly said. There are so-called 'demons'. I certainly do not believe there is any true distinction here, but that is the consensus at the moment. This is primarily due to accounts by supposed 'Ghost Walkers' Who supposedly have walked into the 'Underworld'. Deluded creatures who think that there's some sort of mystical afterlife where these creatures dwell. No, obviously the demons are just the embodiments of religious ideas. Spirits that know how to make a man quake in their boots by putting on shiny red horns."
There was a moment of silence. "So you're saying that there's an afterlife, and there are demons in it. " The three Long Night members said.