Jump to content
[[Template core/front/profile/profileHeader is throwing an error. This theme may be out of date. Run the support tool in the AdminCP to restore the default theme.]]

Everything posted by Dave ST

  1. Eric's Band of Scions were early. If they got special beads from Evelynn then the others weren't aware of it, but none were too surprised when Mercedes and her Amazonian bodyguards Porche' and Acadia were walking through the large double doors towards the music walking, talking and looking like a million bucks. Bridgette, along with Horace and Aaron were loitering by the doors waiting on her and the amazons. Bridgette seemed to be their version of Nadya and decided that a dress would just be too much the norm and decided on a pair of very short shorts, a corset, fishnets, implausible heeled boots and a top hat... because fuck it, why not? Horace looked like he just rolled out of bed and landed in a pile of own shortcomings and future failures that he cleverly disguised as disheveled hair, jeans a tee and a flannel. While Aaron didn't have Mercedes's money he looked like a walking billboard for name brands, from his shoes to the Beats on head. They all went in together but where was Eric? When the limo pulled into the parking lot it was obvious who it was. Laurie Brightman, daughter of the Sun God Apollo, waited for her chauffeur and guardian, James, to circle around and open the door for her. When she stepped out and cemented her claim as the 'loveliest' of Salem High's student body. Rachel and her group were certainly happy to know she was on their side and an evil smirk stretched across their faces as they thought the same thing when they looked at Laurie in reference to Mercedes. All that money that money the Scion of Aphrodite had and she would never be able to buy herself even one sliver of class possessed by Laurie. When the radiant blonde saw them she politely smiled at them and offered a wave of acknowledgement. When Eric stepped from the limo, who certainly cleaned up nice, by the way, the sudden sucker punch of confusion found it's way across all of their expressions. Even Yokiko completely perplexed. She took his arm and two of them walked up towards the doors. "I... have no words." Yokiko stammered in confusion. "He seems, calm. Eric is always so, how do you put it? At eleven?" "Worry about it later," Nadya pushed everyone out of her way. "We have a dance to attend people! Laurie may be a bit of a prude but she is still a woman with needs. We all know the rumors, Eric is a guy who can certainly 'bring the hammer down', so to speak," she kissed two fingers and raised them to the sky. "Reference to my boy Thor, big fan, loved you in Avengers. Now let her do her, and him do her, and let's get in there and do this dance." She took Rachel by the hand and snatched up Darci's too and while backwards pulled them gently towards her and towards the big doors. "C'moooon! Let's wake tomorrow and not have any memory of what to regret about tonight!" In ever window they passed and every side mirror they ignored as they chuckled and joked on their way to those double doors, Nadya's reflection screamed and rebelled against all reason. She pounded on the surface and punched at Niles, but no one saw her. They walked through the doors none the wiser, leaving their friend to be forgotten...
  2. Salem High had won the game (no help from Rachel) so that could only mean one thing: the Homecoming Dance was going to be lit. Screaming, yelling, cheering and full on celebrating were already cranked to eleven by the time the Scions arrived. The gentleman of the school were in a variety of outfits, from nice clothes to full on suits while the ladies of the hour were in everything from short skirts to elaborate evening gowns. One thing was for sure, wit a victory under their belt, this dance was going to be one to remember. Music boomed from the large double doors of the gymnasium. Beth didn't just take a look at the sound system she improved it and everyone within several blocks of the school who didn't like loud music was currently hating life. The Scions met up in the parking lot so they could all go in together and, of course, the ladies had to take a moment to appreciate each others choice in evening attire. Rachel looked like she'd seen a ghost that was dying to be explained in a flashback in a later post, but her and Billy looked adorable (aww). Nadya and Niles met Billy and Rachel by the car and they looked like... oil and water, but Niles was living the dream and was currently an icon in the nerd comunity of what they could acquire if they just put their mind to it and went for the gold. As a result there had been an unprecedented 2,000 percent increase in nerds asking out attractive, out of their league males and females in the school. The current success rate was also an unprecedented zero percent in accepted offers from said nerds and startling increase in Hagen Das sales and adult anime purchases from Amazon. Surely they weren't related. Facts were simple though, Niles unknowingly upset a balance and that upset had to be corrected. He had taken from Fate and Fate demanded a payment in kind and until She was got that payment... no 'nerd' in Salem would be safe. Bullying was increasing, gaming servers were crashing, anime streams were failing to load, gaming books were like a magnet for ever food and beverage out there and a natural '20' hadn't been rolled (World wide) from the very moment Niles had uttered the final syllable of the incantation that had made all his desires come true. Fisher and Darci with Austin and Yokiko met up with everyone and when the entire crowd were together they looked like they were the clique' that owned Salem High.
  3. Everyone had left from Evelyn's with something new to consider or talk about. Darci didn't seem phased by Fisher's admission and Evelyn had finished Darci's consultation for a dress in private. She seemed... different. Bothered. Like something heavy weighed on her heart. Still though, she smiled and took Fisher's arm, positively giddy with the glass bead in her hand. The time they had spent at Evelyn's seemed to fly by and as the early afternoon sunlight and bitter chill of Salem's autumn season wrapped around them as they departed and headed their separate ways. The locker room was quiet and empty. Rachel always got ready alone in the women's locker room, for obvious reasons, it was only after everyone was ready that she entered the male's locker room for the pep talk from Coach Fingers (if it could ever be called a pep talk). Sure, the blood of divinity pumped through her veins, and she was confident that she could mow down every mortal on that playing field, but that was no way to win. Like Eric, she strove to use only a fraction of her abilities, or none at all if she could manage it, but it wasn't as easy as it sounded. Denying herself the power and greatness that thrummed through her form was like denying herself food or water or oxygen. The harder she tried to keep it in, the more and mroe it pushed at her being, roaring, screaming, demanding to set free. It had became a ritual for her to stand in front of the mirror, wet her face a few times and calm that roiling anger that roared inside her. She leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. If she wasn't clam and focused, she could kill someone out there. She raised her head, exhaled and her hands clenched enough to slightly bend the edge of the metal sink with a creaky complaint. Her eye's narrowed at the reflection in the mirror. Bridgette. The Loa Scion leaned against the corner of one of the row of lockers, tipping her flask back. She finished her drink and smiled at the irritated look in Rachel's eyes. "'Lax, girl. Were I in the mood for a round two this place would already be a heap of rubble." Rachel couldn't argue that. The logic was pretty sound. "Then, why are you in here. I'm really in no mood to-" "I said, relax, damn." Bridgette said coyly. She pushed off the lockers and slowly approached the blonde Scion. "Been a long time since a I took a right hook the way you dole em out, Rae. If there's one thing I can respect, it's a right hook hammered down with fury and unapologetic rage. There's a passion to that simple poetry..." she closed her eyes and shivered. Now, she was less than a step from Rachel and it was enough to make her uncomfortable. "Won't lie, it's a bit of a turn on." Rachel's glare would have been enough to kill lesser men in a heartbeat but Bridgette wasn't intimidated in the slightest. Throttling the Scion was always an option, but she was already on the thinnest ice she could possibly be on, both at home and at school. If she got into a fight in the locker room right before homecoming... oh, the fall out would be epic and historical. A part of her wondered if Eric had sent her in here to goad her into a brawl. When the Loa leaned in and Rachel could taste the whiskey on her lips a voice within her cried out for her to move, to get out of there. The kiss though. Bridgette sure knew what the Hel she was doing. IT was passionate, electrifying, and it send a chord through Rachel's body that hummed one exciting tune. Before she knew it, her eyes were closed and she rolled with the thunder until the storm that was Bridgette pulled away from her. By the time Rachel opened her eyes the daughter of Samedi was already walking away. "G'luck out there, sugah," she tipped her flask back and left Rachel to catch her breath. "Kick their ass an... don' be a stranger."
  4. I see what what your saying, and frankly, if you want to do it that way, feel free. I've never required people to have a 5 in a base Attribute before allowing them to buy a Mega. I generally ask that they have at least a three in the relevant Attribute, but for the most part I don't care. The only reason I ask for a three is because a three is the accepted 'above average' and since powers generally tend to eflect the person that gains them, I find it unlikely that someone would gain power in area which they were mediocre. Now, before everyone tells me 'that's exactly where they should gain their power, in all their weak areas!', exceptions exist. Like characters who are essentially a Zero going to Hero, but generally I stick with the assumption that you're not going to develop a Mega in areas you are just average or below average, at least not without tossing me a good story as to why. This tickled me because those little 'blurbs' are not RAW, they are exactly what you said they were: flavor text. They are there to give you a general idea of what someone is capable of at that level of dots. I guy with a 5 Strength can bench or dead lift about 220lbs. Flip to the next installment of a White Wold book and it's 400lbs, or 180 lbs... those numbers give you the base median for what that dot level equates to in the Aberrant Universe. Noir was also right, Might factors a great deal into the Strength argument, as well as leverage. Equating science to attribute dots however, is nuking it. As Noir pointed out, with no Mega but some basic Strength and Might an 'average' character could pull off something extraordinary, as good that science nerd with an iron pole and few friends help him pull. The point is, don't nuke (over think) the rules to the point of saying 'because logic says [this], my new rule is [this]'. That road is littered with folly and gru's. Imagination, quick thinking, and fun is what the game is about. If it's the nerd's time to shine with his leverage idea... let him have his moment, rules be damned. We've had NPCs in our game that were 4 years old with Str1/Mega 1 to reflect that infant Clark Kent vibe of a kid who could lift up one side of a truck. It fit, so we went with it and the only reason he had a Strength of 1 was because he had to in order to have a Mega of 1 because technically an infant, in accordance with the 'blurbs' can't lift (or shouldn't be lifting) the 35lbs. Use what fits your game, but trying to apply logic to gaming rules is just a waste of time. It's hard for me to take someone seriously when they're playing a game where people fly and shoot fireballs from their ass, but are hung up on the simplest things like logic, justifications for, and science. There's nothing wrong with Mega's or what dot you can acquire them at.
  5. Luck Level: 1 Quantum Minimum: 1 Dice Pool: None Manifestation Time: 1 free action Range: Personal Target: You Duration: Instantaneous Power Points: 1+ Description: You 'enjoy' extraordinary luck. Effect: Somehow your quantum consciousness is able to tap into and manipulate Fate, probability and perhaps even reality itself. Regardless of how it's done, Lady Luck smiles on you and looks out for you. You may spend one power point up to your rating in the Luck power. When you spend the points your power influences the outcome of other events. Exactly what happens is up to the Storyteller (meaning you spend the points, but have no control of the outcome). Exactly what happens is up to the Storyteller, but here are a few guidelines: Combat: While in combat you may divide the points from your Luck score in a given turn between your attack or defense. Each point added to attack or defense grants one automatic success per point you devote to your attack or dodge or similar effects such as Resistance or Integrity rolls to counter power effects (such as Domination) for that action. Abilities: Each Luck point adds one automatic success to any use of Abilities out of combat. If you make two or more Ability rolls during the same time frame (turn, minute, or whatever else the Storyteller decides it appropriate), he must divide his Luck points among the different. Backgrounds: Luck affects your rolls associated with Backgrounds in the same manner it does with Abilities. Keep in mind, Fate is a fickle bitch and there are two kinds of luck. Every point you invest in the Luck pool for any particular scene forms a pool. Afterward, the ST rolls one die for each point of Luck you purchased in the previous scene. For each success the ST rolls that one success you owe Fate and the ST can collect those successes at any time, even using them to cancel your own Luck points later on in the story. You can't have good Luck without bad Luck.
  6. Darci wasn't stupid. In fact, she was one of the smartest students at Salem High. Sometimes she had a habit to jabber on about nerdy things, but for the first time since he'd known her she was completely stunned into silence. Her cheeks flushed to red and she averted her eyes in a poor attempt to hide how his words had struck home. She slapped him in the chest one last time, playfully. "You're still a jerk." She pushed him gently. "And you should've told me... and we'll talk later." She thumbed back towards the counter. "I'm ah... gonna go look for a dress... and, process." Evelyn smiled and pushed herself from the counter. Her voice was soothing and calm. "Come on, dear. I've just the one for you."
  7. "A dollar for every time they mention Percy Jackson," Yokiko smiled and bumped her hip into Austin who seemed a bit distracted. He chuckled and waited to see the final result of what telling these two would have on the group. "I highly doubt Billy know who Percy Jackson is." "So, like Percy Jackson?" Bill said, as if on queue. Austin looked to the heavens, rolling his eyes. "Seriously, Dad? Really?" Yokiko chuckled. "You can buy me a coffee. Darci makes a great latte." Rachel and Fisher went forward with their stories, often tag teaming each others sentences to help with explaining things a bit better.from their visitation to the issues at school to the battle with Spear-Finger. Evelyn continued to work her magic on Yokiko's dress and despite the explosion of magical motes converging into a tiny glass bead, the two mortal teenagers didn't pay it much mind and focused on what the two Scions had to say. When they finished a few minutes later Fisher and Rachel looked at each other, that awkward look that said 'they're gonna loose their shit any second'. "Well?" Evelyn said, breaking the awkward silence. "Silly mortals wanted to play Scooby-Doo with the children of gods and now you can't believe what you've found out? I always love that glossy look in their eyes." "Do you mind?" Billy said in a stern, flat tone to Evelyn. "I'm trying to talk with my girlfriend." He sighed at Rachel and then smiled. "Rae, I believe you. I saw you rip a tailgate of a truck and throw it at a guy who melted into a bug. I get why you didn't say anything, I do, but, you can tell me anything. If these... monsters," she could tell it wasn't easy for him to say it, like the word didn't make sense as a viable option for something that needed to be stopped. "Are trying to ruin the world, and only you guys can stop them... tell me what you need and I'll be there." Rachel could see Evelyn over Billy's shoulder. She smiled and winked at her silently mouthing 'I like him.' Fisher wasn't faring so well on the romantic side of things. Darci was massaging his face as he awkwardly looked at her through smooshed cheeks. "How do you do it? Is it like some kind of healing factor?" Fisher took her wrists and lowered her hands, not answering. Seeing she wasn't going to get an answer right away she pursed her lips and slapped him on the chest a few times. "You should have told me you jerk! I'm your best friend! Best friends and significant others are always the first to know about a secret identity. It's Marvel 101." Billy smiled at Rachel. "This mean we're 'significant others'? It's Marvel 101... or so I've heard."
  8. Evelyn chuckled exactly in the condescending way Rachel expected. "We've covered 'belief', dear. Christianity dominates religion, no one believes in the old gods anymore, yet, they exist. Truth is simply the truth, regardless of what you, or I, or the world believes. The Earth Shaker does not tsunami an island and crumble it into the sea because he's bored," she rolled her eyes and shrugged lazily. "Okay, maybe once or twice, he has, but by and large he does it because that's his nature. Your father, he's not a guardian, he doesn't protect and he's hardly just. He's Vengeance personified." She paused for a moment and offered her a smile that was just as matronly with no signs of condescension. She sighed softly. "Dear, do not allow your father to make you an instrument on his vengeance here in the World. Should you ascend to godhood, there can not be two gods of vengeance. You will need to, between then and now, to define who and what sort of example you wish to set, but do not fool yourself into thinking you are good simply because you did the 'right' thing. A time will come, as it does for us all, when 'evil' is the only choice left that to you... and that revelation will destroy you if you still cling to foolish man-made sentiments." "You are, child," she took the dress and held it up, looking it over and eyeing between it and Rachel. "Whatever you choose to be. By the nature of your very existence, the child of a god, you may aspire to be whatever you wish. And in the days to come you will be a powerful force of nature, a Scion, a Demigod! Neither good, nor evil... simply a force that is exactly what the World needs when it needs it. A guardian, a tsunami, a plague..." The dress exploded in a glittery plume of magical motes that spiraled about Rachel and danced their way back to Evelyn's hand where they slowly condensed themselves into a ball of solid, champagne colored magical energy. Rachel had never seen anything like it. With a glimmer and a flash in true Disney-style fashion, the light faded to reveal a simple glass bead no more than the size of a marble and Rachel could see the champagne colored magic swirling in the tiny orb. Evelyn leaned on counter and presented the bead pinched tightly between her perfectly manicured, blood-red talons. "Hair, make-up, dress, shoes... everything you need is right here. When you're ready, simply stomp on the bead and wait for the magic to happen... but don't do it barefooted, I know it goes without saying... but you'd be surprised how many people come running back in here mad at me because they didn't think before stepping on a glass bead." As she reached for the bead, Evelyn drew it back. "Now, go talk to your boyfriend, because what he needs to hear should not come from your friends. Grow up for crying out loud." She presented the bead once again to Rachel and this time did not prevent her from taking it.
  9. Evelyn's lips twisted into a smile as Rachel began firing the questions at her. "Ah, see, now there is that spitfire and bravado I've heard so much about. It's about time if a I dare say. You're such a big ball of collective, pent up emotions. You're going to break something, dear. Either yourself or something you love if you don't get that under control." She broke off from what she was doing, assisting the gentleman with finding an appropriate suit for the evening, to now face Rachel so they could have a proper conversation. "Mr Syracuse thinks I started all of this? Well, I won't fault his logic, but I'm afraid I did not. Despite all the black and leather and cleavage, I am, believe it or not, one of the good ones." She looked away with a roll her eyes and a dismissive wave of her hand. "Well, I'm not one of the bad ones, we'll go with that." She chuckled. "Your last question second," she shook her head at Fisher who presented a blazer that was totally Fisher... so it was totally not stylish. "Sweetheart, no, just no." She motioned for one for the Sylphs to help the poor guy out and looked back to Rachel. "That answer is simple: because I don't have to. Look at all this dear, I have a business to run, I've orders to place, clients to assist. Frankly, I'm swamped. It's far easier for me to reach out to you, than to approach you in person. I'm not really the 'go out for coffee' type. Well, not the swill that passes for coffee in this little town, rather." "Hey, we make damn good coffee at the Drip, lady." Darci chimed up. She'd been standing there ever since she'd been passed up by Rachel outside her changing room, then passed up by Nadya, then passed by Rachel a second time. She was starting to feel a bit invisible but the last thing she was gonna let slide is someone insulting the pride of her workplace. "Of course you do, dear," Evelyn passively blew her off like she was invisible. "Of course you do. Now, on to the lesson, hmm? Austin, your father, the Earth Shaker. He tsunami's an island while rocking it with earthquakes. A hundred thousand people die. Is your father good, or evil?" Being put on the spot, Austin looked from his clothing selection and pondered a moment. "Why did he do it? I don't think the Gods are these perfect paragons of virtue. They have their flaws, but I want to believe that if any God would do something of that scale, they have a good reason to do so. My own biased opinion based on what I do know of him, is that my father is Good, that he'd not do something like that without cause, though I do admit to not truly knowing him." "Ah," Evelyn smiled and continued on. "So then it's a factor of personal justification? Providing he sees the act as 'good', then so it is? Or belief? You don't know him, but as long as you, or he, believe their deeds are good ones, then so they are? So then the opposite would also be true, would it not? Providing we believe one's actions to be evil, so then they would be? Whether or not they actually are or aren't, it's all about perception and belief." "Well, no, I mean... I guess." Austin wasn't really struggling with the answer, it was just one of those topics that was riddled with circular logic. "It's complicated." "So it is," the black clad Demigod agreed. "I didn't ask because I expected an end all, be all answer, sweetie. I asked because there is no answer. 'Good' and 'evil' are man made concepts of morality that help them cope with and attempt to understand the way people think because it's mankind's strongest desire to understand. It's because man knows so little despite all their 'science'. As Scions you must come to understand that not all things are as black and white as you've been brought up to understand. People who live 'good' lives have enough sin in their closets to qualify as what would be 'evil' by your very same narrow definitions. It's all very confusing." "Marius is a bastard, trust me, I use to be married to him." She said with a sneer. "Wait, what?!" Austin, Fisher and Nadya all said in unison, sharing the same tone of surprise. "Oh, yeah, by the way," Rachel motioned to Evelyn with a 'what she just said' gesture that followed up her monotone perfectly. "Surprise." She feigned shaking her hands in a surprise gesture. "Adorable." Evelyn said, unimpressed. "Point being that for all his faults, he's not evil. He's just bitter and filled with resentment over something the Gods did to punish us. And no, what certain something was is not up for discussion." For just a moment her perfect demeanor collapsed and she wore the slightest hint of an emotion in her expression. "That's not to say that he isn't going to attempt something monumentally stupid, and he must be stopped. Whatever it is my ex husband is planning, he must not come to pass, I just needed you little Scions to understand 'good' and 'evil' before you ran out into the hills frothing at the mouth to exact righteous vengeance for reasons you are, frankly, not mature enough to understand yet. The world is not black and white, good and evil. You're Scions. You're above those concepts now." Darci stepped into view, looking at everyone. "Guys, what the hell is going on? What's she talking about?" Billy nodded. "Yeah, this is really weird. This whole trying to figure things out has really snowballed since you," he pointed to Rachel. "Ripped a tailgate from a truck and Fisher took a grenade to the face and it grew back." There was an awkward silence as Darci winced at Billy exposing their investigation into the Scions. "His face grew back... not the grenade." The wicked smile of a woman who thrived on drama traced itself across Evelyn's cheeks as she looked at Rachel. She took her dress from her and walked around the counter. "I'll get this ready for you sweetie."
  10. Consider something like groundhog's day. There's something you guys are supposed to do... and you haven't done it, not this time, anyway. So The Cosmos puts you back where you started. This is Weirder Stuff, so no one says it has to exactly the same, allowing you a 'do over' on certain things you didn't like about your character. What if Devin wasn't super cocky and instead awkward around girls? What if Lily's home life wasn't as good as it's portrayed in the TT game? The pressure for her succeed is borderline abusive and maybe she has serious anxiety issues (just hides them well). What if Kia actually is an alien life form that wants to consume all organic matter on the planet? What if Sean's awesome coding, engineering, and hacking skill actually gave him powers that dealt with technology instead of just giving him tits. What if Sara was hottest, nicest girl in scho... yeah, that's just too weird. What if they actually dealt with high school for longer than 1 story? After EP1 everyone was emancipated, working for the government, had unlimited resources, were successful philanthropists... then they went to a dance... then there was no more high school. A reboot is an amazing way to embrace a lot of the opportunities you guys missed. With a wider breadth of NPCs to work with, it will be easier to form bonds and write interesting plots involving those 'familiar faces'. Just some thoughts.
  11. That's an interesting way to put it: 'live Sean's dream'. Why would anyone want to be their own person while living in Sean's shadow, right? That's exactly what it's like being with the Irregulars. Despite notions to the contrary, Marissa is one of the 'good guys' and in a time when she needed friends and support (with her brother gone and family cast off to another world) it was easier for the Irregulars to cast her out than to deal with her. That's exactly what the Irregulars did. While individual perceptions may vary, of course, it's that perception that forges a reality and that's her reality of them and how they deal with things. If it's not something they can blow up, beat down, or mentally manipulate into thinking their way... they discard it as some obviously defective item not worthy of their attention. Who needs friends like that? While she could have gone and done those things, all she really wanted was her family back. Friends would have been nice, but everyone proved that they were not really the 'stick it out' type and that doesn't really make for good friends, does it? Like most of the Irregulars, she has her fair share of issues. She's mental, like the rest of them and she needs more than anything to be and feel loved (especially since her powers generate fake love in people, finding real love is bliss for her). All her powers are fake, no matter how much people 'love' her, she's always alone... save for those she knows are family, which in this case is pretty much Devin now, since the Irregulars blew their chance. That would be the safest route for Marissa, since the other route is her becoming completely unhinged and not just ruining people, but completely destroying their minds to the point of worshiping her. We're talking full blown cult, with no regard for people's free will (after all... as the superior species they should be thanking her for the opportunity she gives them to bask in her radiance and beauty). All to fill the void of loneliness and desire to be loved. At some point she'd either need to be incarcerated or destroyed. Besides, the two of them and functioning NPCs that can provide actual assistance makes for a far greater story than 'drooling in a bed somewhere' coma patient.
  12. Instead of Devin being a brain dead dolt I got a stellar idea... he gradually gets better and then goes home to his sister who has been living alone, with no income or means of knowing if her family is okay after her parents were shipped off to another planet with no means of returning home for 'their safety' and her brother went undercover to play a villain that ended up with his mind melted. Devin is a Mega-Genius about on par with Abel and Sean, but sees no reason to return to the Irregulars since Abel is out buying up all the Keys he can to replace people who leave the team (yeah, making a 'warp' NPC to replace Devin was a serious dick move). Since the Irregulars have everything they need or a means of conjuring up everything they need/want whenever they want, he really won't see a need to be apart of the team. If they need a ride they can ask one of Abel's interns. Need a Temporal Manipulator? Ask one of Abel's interns. The group is a pretty self serving entity with no real direction or leadership. That's not really something he can jive with. He's an idealist, a leader, and the Irregulars are one big gaggle of reactors with a major lack of tolerance and interpersonal skills. Devin and his sister, however, are both hot heads with a vindictive streak a mile long. They are far from angels and certainly in no position to judge the Irregulars. They are in a position to just not like the organization or its members for whatever reasons. So instead of a braindead, bed-ridden, addled, up on a shelf NPC (it's bad enough he gets NPCed as a moron who talks like he has a 4th grade education), he and Marissa would be better used as Divis Mals, or Magnetos. They simply want what is best for Keys, not America, not the people, not truth, or justice... just the Keys. After knowing and seeing how poorly the world has treated aliens and Keys, it'd not be a stretch to assume that Devin is no longer a team player with the military or any organized government or religion and since the Irregulars are constantly licking the boots and kissing the rings of any agency willing to pay attention to them for five minutes... Devin wouldn't be able to stomach that. They're not terrorists, and they don't want war (blowing up the planet just fucks things up for everybody). He just wants to make sure that Keys are treated as the superior species that they are (you read that correctly), not exploited by mankind or its governments or corporations. He can set up a sanctuary for Keys who want to get away from humanity, especially ones who may have ended up looking a tad 'off' or whose powers might be a bit more than humanity is ready for. Maybe him and Marissa get themselves an island somewhere, or a carve out a home somewhere in the American Mid-West (because seriously... does anyone even really use it?). Maybe Eden, Arizona... only a few people live there anyway, they place is a dive. They wouldn't be the enemy of the Irregulars, simply two different factions of differing opinions. Indeed as Keys, the Irregulars would be welcome in his domain anytime. He'd be willing to help if he could, especially since if it involved furthering the Key agenda or keeping the world safe from some outside threat. Reconciling with the Irregulars, however, is not something that would be likely to happen for Devin or Marissa. The only one Devin can truly tolerate is Lily and Marissa just blames them for every problem that has ever happened... ever (whether it's actually their fault or not). Or he's a drooling bed-jocky filling up a bedpan 'off camera'.
  13. "After you, my dear," Winter said with eloquence befitting a man who may have been royalty before his passing. They decided to walk. Nothing screamed 'we did it' like pulling up to a soon-to-be-murder-scene in a damn tour bus with your band's logo on the side. Winter made for rather boring conversation, as usual, but she took it in stride. To say she trusted him would have been a lie for the centuries. She knew he'd sooner save her from a fire than he would toss her into one if it suited his personal agenda to do so. She knew he heard the whispers of the Neverborn, like she did, although according to him it was nothing near as powerful as her ability. She also knew the Neverborn cared for nothing, even her or him. They were tools, slaves to the Whispers despite how much freedom they thought they had, a gilded cage was still a cage. She had to wonder what they told him... "...if all goes well The Maiden of the Mirthless Smile should bring Thorns to it's knees in a matter of weeks." Winter said. She was half listening, but caught the last part. "For every soldier that dies, she gains one for her side of the fight. The Mistress of Pacts Sealed in Blood has already joined her, in an attempt to facilitate communication and terminate hostilities." He clammed up as they passed an old man walking out of a store front. He turned up his collar to the chill of the evening and when he saw the young couple he offered them a polite smile and a nod. They both eyed him suspiciously, after all this was the slums, you eyeballed everyone with suspicion, but he went his way and they went theirs. Nine blocks later they stood outside the gates to an Immaculate Cathedral. Home to the worship of the Black Jade Emperor and his sister, the Saint Cecilia. Winter smirked and pushed the wrought iron gates open and the two made their way across the grounds to the large doors. It was an elaborate affair of stained glass and gargoyles in the shapes of dragons and demons all being cast below by The One True God, the Black Jade Emperor. They pushed open the doors and stood in the alcove near the holy water basin. Before them was a massive array of pews and in the distance an elaborate organ and stands in the back for the choir and a of course the podium where the priest would give his weekly sermons. The place was massive, like some sports fields, and the intricacy of the carvings and stained glass were enough to warm Messiah's heart and truly appreciate the beauty of what they had created here... until she remembered the guy running the place was a piece of shit cannibal stealing away the offering of the dead so loved one's couldn't rest in peace. From off to the side, from a hidden alcove deep in the back, the man they were looking for stepped out. He was older, but not old. Maybe in his fifties, looked healthy and certainly seemed normal, but didn't they all? He was in elaborate robes befitting his station and he greeted them with a smile. "I'm sorry, but we're not entertaining guests anymore this evening. Unless of course it's an emergency. Are you two alright? Were you chased in here by the dregs of the neighborhood? I can call the authorities and have them escort you home." She looked to Winter who simply smiled and motioned for her to take the lead. "It's your show. I'm just here to observe and assist as needed."
  14. Goza shook his head. "Fallen in with a bad crowd? Heh, that's one way to put it I suppose. Eh," he shrugged, blowing a plume of white smoke into the air. "Getting to the boy will be difficult, from the ground. The top three floors though, that where a lot of them do their partying and they do not have much security on the roof, flying rival gangs area bit scarce these days, you see..." his chuckle was a mixture of wheezing and mirth. "These are thugs, Mik. Not well armed and even less in the brains department, I'll bet you could mow your through the front door with little difficulty. If you're looking for quieter or faster though, try the rooftop access stairs. How you get to those... well, I can no say. It's a good twenty foot leap from either of the neighboring buildings if the alleys are up to code." Mikhail nodded. Pressing the issue would have been bad form at this point. He'd paid and pushed a bit, so it was best to take what he'd been given and make the best of it, especially if he wanted his information to be good the next time he needed it. "Thank you, old friend." He exited the shop and pulled his collar up to the chill and dampness of Deleshin's streets. He began his walk and as he tucked his hands in his pockets to stave off the chill he passed a couple. She was beautiful with long black hair and lips to match, ripped denim jeans and a thick leather jacket. Her 'date' was pale, but average with his most striking feature being his bleached white hair. Like er, his leather coat kept the chill of the evening at bay, although neither looked particularly bothered by the cold. He offered them a smile and pressed on, they were polite enough but didn't stand on ceremony and simple continued on their way, opposite the way he was going. He had some intel. It wasn't much, but it was a place to start. Meanwhile... back at Goza's...
  15. It wasn't hard for Toby to scale the fence. With the power of his exaltation leaping over the fence was easy (and totally gratifying). Constance watched him to the leap, some kind of ninja, and a part of her wondered if she could do that as well... then he just sort of faded away. Itwasn't that he disappeared, no, he was there, but she just could't focus on him all that well, like when a fly buzzed her head and she swatted at it and thought it was still close by, but she just couldn't see it until the corner of her eye caught it moving several feet away. Toby had to keep himself from chuckling. Workers and guards could see him, but they didn't notice him! Hell, he even tipped his head to a guy walking past him and the guy returned the gesture and didn't think anything of Toby not belonging there. He didn't want to push his luck, so when guards came by he slunk into the shadows that seemed to preternaturally darken and welcome him. They passed and he smirked while tucking one of their key cards into the pocket of his coat. Constance paced back and forth, worry had taken her strides about five minutes ago but since there was no gun fire or commotion from the compound she assumed he'd not been discovered, or worse, caught. She spun on her heels and gasped in shock as Toby was standing right where she had just walked. She socked him in the shoulder for scaring her but only once as stealth was of the utmost importance. He presented he with a key card. "Service entrance around back. We can climb to the catwalks from there, these old warehouses are full of them. There's a control room or watch floor or something in that one, right there," he pointed to the nearest warehouse. "Security is lighter than I thought. Follow me." Toby still wasn't a hundred percent on board with the idea of taking her along, but she was nothing if not persistent. Either he helped, or she'd just come back and get her self killed without him. He was about to turn and explain how he was going to help her over the fence when she landed with the grace of an gymnast not far from him. He wasn't the only one blessed with great power. She followed his route, phone down at her hip tucked away and recording everything she passed by. Toby even had to drag her along at one point because she'd tried to hide and record a couple of guards having a conversation. The door unlocked with a muffled 'beep', allowing them slide into the shadows of the chaotically arranged warehouse. For military types, they were quite messy... or planning on leaving... or staying. They climbed up to the unguarded catwalks and in the shadows followed them until they were not far from that 'watch floor' Toby had mentioned. Constance realized it was more of an investigation spread than a watch floor, with pictures, debris, and motic interfaces rendering three dimensional images that played through an event over and over. She recognized the event... it was a terrorist bombing that took place several months ago. A few technicians were compiling info and for the most part couldn't care less what was happening around them. She knew their type, they were working six/twelve shifts and were over worked and underappreciated. It was the woman near one of the dry erase boards littered with taped photos and colored lines for connections, that caught her eye. The large sword on her back, the one that needed a custom designed scabbard to carry it, betrayed her as one of the 'Dragon-Blooded', the new Elite Special Forces of Creation. Her uniform was different from everyone else's, which was not uncommon for them. They tended to dress in colors akin to their element and wear about anything they liked, within reason. When you were wielding the power of essence, the energy of gods (so they claimed), you got away with pretty much anything. Her choice was modest. Simple knee high boots, tight black pants and her officer's blouse underneath with a few awards pinned to the left side of her chest and a dark red leather coat that matched the hue of the red tinged alloy of her blade. Her long black hair was braided and then wrapped into a tight bun. "Major Tepist," a strong booming voice spoke calmly from the darkness. A mountain of a man stepped from the darkness dressed similarly to her save that his hair was fiery red. He was square jawed and looked like all six foot six of him was built for war. The major spun on her heels surprised. "G-general Cainan," she stood a bit taller and tried to look as professional as one could when blindsided by someone who required certain protocols when visiting... and she was never told he was visiting. "T-twhat do I owe..." "Let's keep this informal," he raised a hand dismissing her bearing. "Everyone leave please." And just like the technicians poured out in a hurry. When they had all left, he continued. "So, how goes this six month investigation?" "W-well," she was completely unprepared to brief a four star general and war hero, and it showed. "There were no survivors in the bombing save one. The only body not recovered was one Mordrys Black. Lead signer of the band that performing at the time of the explosion. Although her body was discovered among the dead she, uh... walked away." "She walked away?" He asked in disbelief. Major Tepist shrugged. "For all intents and purposes, yes, sir. Since then she has been spotted here in Deleshin, but attempts to apprehend her for questioning have all failed. It's a matter of time though, General." "I'm sure it is," he offered an assuring smirk as he handed her an envelope. "What's this?" She asked. "Your reassignment orders. There is a new batch at the RL-20 Facility that needs training, you're to report to the Noss Fens and assist the CO in getting these new eggs ready. My daughter Cathrine with be finishing your work here," he turned to walk away. "B-but sir! This is my investigation! This isn't right! It's not fair!" She changed from proud military soldier to spoiled brat in one sentence. "I worked hard to get this assignment, sir. I earned this!" He spun about, fury in his glare as wisps of embers began to slowly lift from him like they might from a fire in a soft summer breeze. "Indeed you did, Lissara. The next time you think sleeping with your commanding officer in an attempt to blackmail him into promoting you is a good idea... remember this day." He calmed, his breathing was more controlled as the embers died away. "I vouched for you. That is why I'm delivering the paperwork, personally. You let me down, you let us all down. What you did was stupid and it's only by the grace of The Black Jade Emperor that I've kept this scandal as quiet as I have. You will reports there in three days time, pack your things, Captain." "C-captain?" Her began to moisten at the sound of a demotion. "Read the paperwork, Larissa. Best of luck to you." He turned and walked out. She didn't read the paperwork right away. Her fist clenched as she watched him walk back into the shadows. After another moment, in a fit of rage her arm slid across the table of evidence sending it scattering all over the floor. The dry erase board was next and it was send sailing through the air and into the shadows with a clamor as she stomped off into the darkness herself. After the door slammed there was an awkward and eerie silence.
  16. Goza leaned in and looked at the picture as Mikhail rolled off a few notes of jade script. He looked to the picture, then to Mikhail, the back to the picture. "Mik," he pronounced it 'Mike' instead of 'Mick'. "We've done business many years. I hate to tell you, but this boy is not dead. He was not killed by one of the lowlifes around here. He is one of the lowlifes. Drugs, murder... he's part of the little band of hoodlums holed up in a building three blocks from here. It would not surprise me if the reason you've been so busy lately is because of him and his little group of bastards." "As for your other problem," he smirked as Mikhail thumbed out a few more bills of scratch. "I do not know who she is, but I do know she has an arrangement with N'Gezer. You now him? Big time drug and sex dealer. Weed so loud he smokes in surround sound. Good shit. Hell of a kick" [Connections: Criminal Underworld] "I know of him, yes." The old Solar replied dryly. "He sold you out. Word is a few days ago he made a big bargain with her. Told her everything he knew about you. Knows what hand you wipe with now and she is pissed." Goza clenched his fist to accent his point. "Something about you, old man. Something about you that just makes people wanna be all up in your gut. Why do you always have to piss everybody off? If it's any consolation, I hear she's really hot. Prettier the assassin the more the person who sent them after cares! No one wants to die by an ugly person... very shit way to end a legacy." He nodded sagely and took a drag from his cigarette.
  17. Casey had been left with a bit to ponder and Mel was returning to his duties. Maya thought it best to introduce herself to Mr. Mourne and quietly followed him, as best she could, through the people and smaller galleries. She lost him a time or two, but the place was small and it wasn't easy to completely lose a guy that had shoulders like him. Did he bench small trucks at the gym? "...I don't know." She heard his voice as she was about to round a corner. "No, D'Sombra is up to something, I think she's found one. No, not the one I'm watching, she has no idea Casey could be one, but I think she's suspicious." There was a pause in the conversation and all Maya could hear was that vague mumble from his smartphone. "Well, what do you expect? She's centuries old, has more money than god, and an army of goons out scouring the streets. We have me, you, and some guy named 'Dwayne' who can barely tie his shoes... I don't care if you owed your cousin a favor, he's an idiot. Any just run the name 'Grimson'... you know what, shot in the dark...," she could hear a piece of paper rustling around in his hands. "Hold on, I'm checking the guest list... Flynn. Maya Flynn. I don't know, it's a hunch. What? I don't know, mixed heritage... look for a hippie version Zazie Beetz, I'll text you a surveillance photo. The way she sees the world... it could be a lead, could be nothing, just run the name." His phone beeped, she assumed the call was done as he took a moment to breathe in and exhale. "I'm getting to old for this." He mumbled to himself.
  18. The door buzzed and Mikhail entered. In this neighborhood it was a good idea to keep the gates over the doors 24/7, or better yet, just not have a business around here at all, but that wasn't the case. The store was closed for the night but that didn't mean nothing wasn't going on in the back. Goza was certainly here, as was the rancid scent of that swill he called 'tea', and appeared to be in the process of multitasking between what looked like bootlegging porn and trying to develop pictures of a few strangers having a great time in a hotel. Mikhail didn't mind the dark, his eyes focused and everything became a black and white outline to his senses. "Oh. Ohohohohoh... you are in some trouble, 'old friend'." Goza chuckled. He was walking around the back room with nothing more than the dim light of the old television screens as to not ruin the pictures he was developing (who developed pictures these days?). He was in nothing more that humble jeans, a stained white tank top and bummy house slippers and looked like he hadn't washed his hair or Fu Manchu for a week. "I know why you're here. The hunter is now the hunted, hmm?"
  19. Cecil 'The Geezer' N'Gezer Quote: "Respect. Come, let us deal. A prolonged fire fight would not prove cost effective." Power Level: Below Average (his handicap makes it difficult for him to defend himself) Twenty years ago, Cecil was one of the first Dragon-Blood super soldiers to reach the public spotlight. Eight years later he suffered a crippling injury in a skirmish with Raksha that never quite healed properly. He assumed that he would be reassigned, but no. His newly acquired handicap had earned him an honorary discharge but for all intents and purposes, he was no longer of any use to the government. Seething with anger he left Meruvia and arrived in Deleshen where he used his magical prowess to go into free enterprise narcotics dealing and vice peddling. Now, twelve years later, he is a crime kingpin with a grudge against the Meruvian government and all Dragon-Bloods as a whole as he is jealous of their prowess and shuns his own handicap as a weakness. He retreats from his self-loathing with copious amounts of drugs, sex and perverse debauchery. He is always accompanied by a pair of attractive women simply reffered to as 'The Twins'. Rumors on the street say that they are awakened mortal sisters that have been trained in exotic fighting styles. The pair is known for their sadistic tendencies and act as N'Gezer's personal bodyguards and assassins. N'Gezer is a consummate businessman and gangster. While it's difficult to trust him since he's always serving his own interests, he holds a major grudge against the 'polite society' that shunned him after he became crippled. IT's for this reason he's usually willing to work others to help bring down the establishment... however, he's no one's friend. He learned that lesson a long time ago.
  20. A Thousand Little Pieces Here will be where all the NPCs for the various stories will live. While most of you at some point will encounter or even work with some of these as the stories move forward, the game is and always will be about you, the players. With each of them I may or may not include a character sheet. Feel free to use this in your own home games, but do not feel for a moment that just because I made a sheet for the NPCs that I follow those sheets. They are a guideline that I use for defining the level of threat you might face. Also I use a simple system for warning you, the players, who you should mess with and who you shouldn't. Consider it a free 'Common Sense' merit function. Power Level: Weak - Few NPCs will fall under this category, since it's usually reserved for mooks and henchmen. Weak NPCs might talk tough, but they will rarely oppose you directly. They know better. Below Average - As per the PCs but with Dice Pools generally three or four points less, lacking large amounts of health levels or Essence to pull of useful charms or combos. Heroic Mortals and weaker Dragon Bloods fall into this category. Average - Your opposition is equal to you in relative power. Above Average - These guys fight smart. They may be equal to you in power, or slightly more powerful, but they are always one step ahead in the grand scheme of things. They generally have useful combos and fight intelligently or have small armies to do all their dirty work for them. Generally these guys have pools a few points higher than your own. Obscene - Battling these guys is unwise. It will take several of you fighting as a team to bring these giants down. The pool for these guys are generally a lot larger and they do not conform to the standard rules. Infernals are a prime example of this. They have all the media, the military, and large stores of obscenely powerful weaponry lying around for use in destroying you... and they will! Try not to piss them off until you're sure you can handle the blow back.
  21. The door cautiously opened and a woman stood in the threshold. Her eyes were puffy from tears and remnants of her makeup could be seen in streaming patterns down her cheeks. She was so filled with sorrow that Grandfather Mischief's heart sank. Behind her he could see a man sitting on a chair dabbing a blood stained paper towel to his throat. Her eyes widened and she inhaled deeply as she finally looked upon the man at her door. Mikhail wasn't aware of the thaumaturgy that allowed him to hear other's prayers for vengeance, but for a moment, those who summoned him could see his golden caste mark glimmering in soft motes upon his forehead, declaring their prayers were answered by the Unconquered Sun (even if they had no idea who or what the Unconquered Sun was). "Y-you're here..." she stood aside and motioned for him to enter. "A woman, she was here... she forced me to do the ritual. I d-didn't think it was real..." For the next few minutes the couple explained to Mikhail what had happened. They provided a description of the woman that attacked them: tall, black hair, black makeup, black clothing, 'really hot' the husband offered up and it earned him a dagger-like glare from his wife. He only shrugged and asked 'what'? "She told us to direct you to those who took our son from us. It didn't make any sense to us that she would hurt us just to help you avenge us." She shrugged. "Moths ago our boy, Daniel, was taken from us. Drug dealers and hoodlums who peddle their filth no far from here have made these streets unsafe for the rest of us. Our boy left months ago and he never came home. With all the shootings and violence in the streets, the gangs, the dealers... we know it was them. A neighbor saw him being harassed by a few of them the night he disappeared. We told him never to go around that building they took over. We told him to stay away...," she broke down into tears.
  22. "To be clear, I do not need you," He corrected her swiftly and with a tone that betrayed a slight hint on his own hubris. The Dusk Caste was goo at what he did and often worked alone, for him to have chosen to be The Death Metal Messiah's 'mentor' was about as strange of an occurrence as the rumors of the Underworld could have lately. Why he decided to show her the ropes had always been a slight tapping in the back of her mind. "You've been in Creation for a half a year, I've shown you much and you've been allowed to do, how do you say it? 'Your own thing'." He leaned against the wall and folded his arms, only using one of them to gesture while he spoke. "Your days of guttural mewling into a phallus shaped object for the entertainment of these skin-socks is over. Our masters have decided you are ready, this will be your test. If you perform your duties satisfactorily then you will be free to pursue your own agenda as you see fit. If not, I will destroy you so that your power can move on to one more competent. However I will enjoy torturing your ghost for eternity until the only thing you have left is the hope that I will allow you to finally move on." It was no surprise that Winter hated Creation and for some reason he hated what Messiah did with her time, almost as if she were royalty rolling around in the mud with the peasants, but he was also a Dusk and unless it came to war, he wasn't one for the long game, that much was obvious. "This priest, William Luckley, is a corpse eater. A cannibal. Normally that wouldn't be our concern, but he's performing funerary rights to families. He's extorting money from people to perform rights for a body that isn't in the casket, it's in his freezer. Without those rights the dead can not rest peacefully, nor can the family offer proper homage to their ancestors since there was no proper burial performed." He pushed off the wall and his fist was encased in in necrotic essence. It flickered and dances like a blackish/purple flame before being snuffed out with an audible wisp. "And that, dear Priestess of the Neverborn, I shan't abide. We will rectify this problem tonight. We will give the family's closure and see to it that the cycle continues." She wasn't sure if Winter realized it or not, but it was in that moment that it dawned on Mordrys that the Abyssals were as much bound to Creation as they were to the Underworld. Creation needed them. Without them, or people to properly keep the living in line and the dead in check, one would undoubtedly overtake the other... so, why hadn't the Neverborn allowed this yet if Oblivion was their ultimate end game?
  23. The man in Ophelia's arms struggled as his wife cried out of fear, begging the stranger to let him go. Ophelia jerked the man, twisting his arm up into a chicken wing hold and gripped her hand just under his chin. Her black fingernail slowly lengthened to the horror of the begging woman into a talon several inches long and she rested it upon his throat. "Please!" The woman cried. "Take what you want, please, just don't hurt him! I've lost my son, I can't lose him!" There in her living room she was on her knees, hands outstretched towards her husband, hoping she'd not lose him this evening. A trickle of blood appeared from the tip of the talon as it pierced her husband's throat. "No! Nooo! Please, no!" She collapsed into tears and sorrow. "You," she began, jerk the husband's arm just make it hurt. "Owe The Geezer for the ritual he told you. Lost your son, seeking revenge? Ring a bell? Where is the man you summoned!?" She yelled. "No! W-we didn't. We never used it..." she cried out. Every sob was laced with silent pleas not to hurt her husband. "We were angry. We were hurt, but in the end, no amount of vengeance would have brought him back! We didn't do the ritual!" The man choked as she squeezed his neck, letting her long talon rest away from his throat for a moment. "I commend your nobility, but that's going to work for me. You'll do it, now, or he dies." The woman shook her head in both fear and shock. "Please, no. Please don't hurt him." "Then DO THE RITUAL!" Ophelia screamed at her as her hand tightened around the man's throat. "Oh, sweetie... better get on it.. I give him... twenty seconds, tops." It was more like forty, since killing him would end her leverage on the woman, but she could only push so far and the woman would crack and be useless to her. She watched as the terrified woman tore her living room and kitchen apart looking for what she would need to begin the ritual... within only a few moments both rooms looked like a bomb had gone off and all she had to show for it was a simple scrap of paper and photo of her child. She tossed the picture on the floor, clasped her hands together and rocked back and forth, chanting. "O'Great Unconquered One, turn your mighty eye upon me and bathe me in your warmth and radiance. What was done, you can not undo, but bring me vengeance, swift and true." She looked up to Ophelia, tears streaming in her eyes. "Again." She squeezed the man's neck until his face began swelling and turning red. "If you stop before I tell you, you'll be cleaning him from the walls." Sobbing, the lady rocked backed and forth, mumbling the thaumaturgic ritual to herself. Several blocks away... The gun was in excellent condition, just in need of proper polishing and oil. With years of muscle memory Grandfather Mischief slid each cleaned component into place and the weapon slowly began to look like its old self. In the dim light all one could see is the master's hands moving quickly and efficiently for several moments until they came to a sudden halt. Slowly the room got brighter and brighter over his work area as his Caste Mark began to shimmer and glow in the shadowy illumination. "...bring me vengeance, swift and true." The sobbing voice echoed in his mind and his thoughts carried him to where she could be found. Duty called...
  24. '...Just a Coincidence' Gallons of rain poured down every second as a veritable deluge seemed to have been summoned the very evening Constance decided it would be a good idea to follow up a lead. Thunder crashed every few minutes and and the occasional flash of lightning lit up the area surrounding the abandoned, yet for some reason high traffic, ware house on the southern waterfront. The news paper she was using as an umbrella was on its last leg, and for a few moments she'd managed to find shelter across the way from the ware house under a very small awning above a door to a similarly abandoned building. She knew she shouldn't be here. This whole thing was a bad idea, which was why she absolutely needed to be her! She'd been watching for the better part of an hour now and already a black 'wasp' copter had landed and four large black vans, like armored cars had drove through the gate past the armed checkpoint. No one was wearing any discernible markings or colors, if they were military, law enforcement, or private security, she couldn't tell. For an abandoned section of the wharf, this place was pretty well secured and maintained. A crash of thunder followed a flash of lightning and Constance's eye opened wide in shock as a patrol of two guards passed just ten feet away from her. She managed to allow herself to fall backwards and slide between a full dumpster and the small two steps she was standing on just under the awning, to hide herself as they walked by. They were in black, all black (why was it always black?) and their bod armor looked military or at least not the average 'look what I ordered off AmaZOMG' variety. Fully automatic fire arms, night vision helmets... by St. Cecelia, these guys were loaded for the next world war! Thankfully they didn't see her, but she stayed still anyways. Toby should be here soon... but would he he be here in time for her to still get a good scoop? She shot him a text anyways. [Hurry!] was all it said.
  25. Just Desserts The fans in Deleshen's Under City roared out and cheered as the set for Death Metal Messiah came to a close. They chanted for an encore, they earned for another song, any song... they hoped for just, one, more. But hope was a lie. They would get nothing else from her this evening. Her set was done and she other business to attend to, like the after party. Back in her green room as things from the set wound to a close and the people were milling out back to their meager and pathetic lives, she sat in an over stuffed chair, strumming a few chords on her bass as her and the others decided what they were going to do with the rest of their evening. They could all hear the fans outside the room, thumping and cheering and begging to go in 'for just a sec'. The Death Metal Messiah of the Yawning Void however, just smirked and listened to how they were constantly rejected and it brought a slight curl to her lips. It was only when all the sound stopped and everything fell deathly silent that Messiah lifted her head from her bass and stopped strumming the notes. She knew it wasn't a good sign. A moment later the door to the bands room opened and the brief moment that one could see outside all there was to be seen were standing silent wearing nothing but looks of pure terror as their expression. The man who entered was one that Messiah had not seen in well over three months. He was tall and toned, but didn't look particularly powerful. He had short white hair, and was dressed in black. Black steel toes, black denim and t-shirt and a leather duster that the coat tails were cut all the way up to his shoulder blades, for some strange reason she never ventured to guess. His name was Winter's Sanguine Shadow or 'Winter' for short, and he was the closest thing to a 'friend' she had among the Deathknight fraternity she found herself a member of not long ago. “Odd, is it not?” His voice was calm and monotone, devoid of any emotion. “You despise hope, and yet it's exactly what you give them. Hope that they might see you, meet you, hear your songs one more time. For all your effort to dispel hope, you spread it everywhere you tread.” He looked at the mortals assembled in the room who looked between her and him, wondering what the connection was. “Anyone who wishes to die, by all means, stay.” As the fearful strides of those in the room beat a hasty egress a sadistic smirk grew on Winter's lips. When only the two of them were left, as she knew he knew they would be the only two left, he turned to face her (he often refused to look at mortals directly). “I find it amusing that they all love their 'death' metal so proudly, and prostrate themselves before the anger and rage and oblivion... yet when faced with their mortality they so quickly lack the courage of their convictions. I know not why you waste your time with them.” He dismissively waved a hand at the door, brushing the thoughts of her hangers on aside. “On to the reason for my visit. You and I have work to do. You are a Deathknight and a mouthpiece for the Void. There is a man of the cloth who needs to be sorted. We are going to be his reapers.”
  • Create New...