2019-07-09, 06:05 AM (ISO 8601)
Firbolg in the Playground
Re: [Masks] San Fransapporo: After Dark
Razade, The GM
The walk to the Kintsugi headquarters is a bit of a leg, though the Teleportal network probably cuts down on this travel if you're induced to use it for such a mundane task. A former library and training yard for AEGIS, the building is somewhat run down partly thanks to the very explosive and dangerous people meeting within. A good metaphor for the organization as a whole. Before AEGIS secured enough leverage in San Fransapporo one of their satellite organizations held sway here. The Tonbogiri used their strength to rail against The Warlords and anyone else they felt threatened by and its very likely this library was one of their many storage facilities of the illicit Metahuman narcotic Black Oni. The drug, its makers, and Tonbogiri were ousted and in the vacuum AEGIS stepped in.
That lasted only for a year however culminating in The Rogue, a member of the Five Warlords, stealing one of AEGIS's most powerful Helicarriers in broad daylight for all the city to see. AEGIS, in shame, picked up as much as they could and took off into the night to hunt down their weapon and what little dignity they could piece together. Kintsugi and many organizations were left to pick up the pieces even AEGIS had no need of. Scraps of scraps. Truly, they're just as desperate as you.
The meeting is held on the first floor, all the usual faces in attendance. There's Miss Honeycut, the well meaning if overbearing group mediator and her two guards Aka and Ao. Both are known for their ability to nullify particular powers and are thus an invaluable team for such meetings. You've never seen Miss Honeycut use her powers though she is fit, trim and well put together in a smart AEGIS uniform though its AEGIS patches have been removed. There's no sign of Akihito or Kaley though and while all the other usual players are present...there's a lot of empty seats.
Miss Honeycut is quick to nod you over when you enter, the curt smile she gives everyone even more plastered on than usual. "Lanuola, it's so nice of you to join us. We're about to begin, if you'd like to take your seat? We're having a small circle today, the attack on the waterfront has put some of the tram stations on alert." News travels fast it would seem, though with the police helicopters having been at the fight with Coyote before you it's probably not surprising. You can feel Miss Honecut's eyes upon you, appraising you, the smile growing into a thin line.
"You look upset. Would you like to start today's session for us?"
Well. Would you? Others, some more panicked and others much more bored, watch you as well. There's Slim Kamaitachi and Kuma, two of Akihito's sycophants. Today would be his day to appear. Do you have any friends in the group? People you might at least enjoy seeing? Or is this an archipelago of suffering, each of you an island of potential disasters waiting to happen?
The shoot is well underway when you land, the flashes of cameras a practical lightning storm of lights that only abate when you speak. You're waved in without so much as a glance over and after an initial salvo of pictures you're passed to wardrobe, dressed and pruned and plucked and powdered as needed before rolling out into another quickfire series of poses, the typical shouting of some two bit producer punctuated by the percussion of of camera shutters.
A break is eventually called, the shoot not warranting craft services but at least serving some form of refreshments. This breather gives you time to assess whose actually with you, other than the typical host of hopeful breakouts and whoever else they pay to help pad group shots. The particular company caters to Supers, after all, so non-Metahumans are often in demand. "Didja here, Red?" the familiar voice of Nessa Russo slips in behind you, her text box cover you almost fully on the page as she steps into view in a bikini top and sarong. "Seems we're going to have a heavy hitter coming to join us today. Does the name Tempest ring a bell?"
Even if you'd not been away for two years in a literal tempest, you'd be forgiven for not knowing who the hell your co-worker is speaking of. There's at least seven Tempest's in San Fransapporo alone, heroes not being the most creative sorts. The most famous, in or out of the city, would be the Tempest of Glavnos. A small speck of rock off the coast of South Africa, Glavnos has the distinction of being the first U.N recognized meta-human nation. As in, the first for Meta-Human, by Meta-Human, Nation. Its leader, the so called "President Elect" sits in a jail cell in Halcyon City. His daughter, the President interim, tours the world in a good will ambassador's role for the...frankly despotic nation state.
She's been on the news, least one think it strange she might consider a photoshoot in the historic River District of San Fransapporo, thanks to her sudden and publicized visit to the city. Some speculate that Glavnos is eager to reach out to the Imamu diaspora that makes its home in the city, others postulate more sinister aims. Glavnos is, after all, a pro-Metahuman country with villainous ties. Many argue it was only a matter of time for the Novakoff Family to reach out to the Warlords.
Either way. What's your opinion on this? On Nessa? On the whole process of flesh for cash industry as it stands. Or the refreshments offered.
You were dismissed so it's not particularly difficult for you to slip away. The whispered words aren't heard either, you're beneath the hero's notice as she surveys the damage as the far off sirens finally reach their destination. Cops, firetrucks, even a few fireboats fill the scene which gives you more than enough cover to slip away to the team's base not too far from where you stand. The unassuming building masks one of many of The Smith's hideouts.
Much like its owner, the base beneath Tsunami's home and storefront is simple. Sturdy walls unadorned, thick paneled wood floors and more than enough space to house the entire team with food stores and supplies to spare. It too has one of the many Teleportals set in its main entranceway, an easy place to slip in and out of should the need arise. Tsunami would know that the Teleportal connects directly to The Smith's own workshop though knowing her...a visit would probably best be preceded by some formal communication. One can never be certain who or what the ancient artificer might be hosting.
What else does the base have Tsunami? Computers, even if not of the super variety? Actual rooms for each member of the team to rest in should the need arise? Showers? You probably need one what with all the blood. A kitchen? Somewhere you all formally meet? Do you have a cool round table so no one is at the head of the group?
Coyote, Master Sun: The Hall of Fallen Peonies
The room is large and open, a garden you’ve seen before though now the panels show the true extent of it. Walls of dark wood line the entire enclosed garden space, the music has stopped and Master Sun stands near a large stone platform that was otherwise off screen. His hands folded behind his back, two razor thin blades are clutched tight.
The sky above flashes and with a sudden burst of light, Coyote falls to the platform. She looks a little more beat up than last we saw her but certainly not vaporized where she stood. She has little time to collect herself as one of Master Sun’s blades are leveled at her neck.
“What…” she croaks, futility trying to slide on her hands away from the blade that moves with her.
“A new weapon of the Authority.” Master Sun answers calmly, a shot of his papers showing many more crossed out lines with those words written. “We call it Amaterasu. Did you enjoy your trip?”
Coyote spits at the man’s shoes, scowling deeply. “You set us up.”
“Yes...yes we did.” Sun’s voice almost seems regretful. “You didn’t find the artifact.” This is said purely as fact. “No matter...The Smith will have it soon enough. She’ll see reason. It’s as I predicted. You on the other hand are to be sent to the Chill. Lightbringer’s orders are absolute. We wouldn’t want you telling everyone that we hired you I suppose, no one would believe you. It’s why the Yojimbo aren’t going to get any traction with their suspicions. Best not to have any loose ends about all the same.”
Coyote has ceased her attempts to get away, fingers dangling near the edge of the platform. “You don’t have the right! You said this was to save the city! To save Odette! You can’t just bury us, lock us away when we were trying to help! I survived the Storm King! I survived The Black Emperor! Every time someone tries to beat me down I come back stronger and I’ll do the same this time too.”
As before, mirroring almost perfectly the last panel she was in, Coyote lunges forward. Sadly for Master Sun he’s nowhere near as prepared as one might think an omniscient immortal might be. He stumbles, the blade dragging just barely along Coyote’s face as she rises and takes hold of the ancient tactician. “I’ll be taking that power of yours.” she snarls though the sound turns into a gurgle as her eyes twitch in their sockets. She is soon on the platform once more as she sinks to her knees, gasping and sucking for air as her body trembles. Master Sun merely steps back, placing the blades aside. “You truly are a fool.” He sighs. Two men in heavy armor step into the garden, making their way to collect the villain as she remains catatonic.
“She’ll regain her senses soon enough. You’ll want to bind her. She’s very tenacious. Tell the Wardens to bury her deep, she has the potential to cause the first prison break in the history of the Chill. Consign her to Darkness or she’ll be the doom of us. This I have seen.”
The two men bow before leaving the garden, Master Sun slowly moving back to his seat and collecting his pages.