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  1. What's new in this game
  2. “Where to start..?” Grim mused as, a few moments later in the next room, the young woman with the skeletal face (and body) paint who seemed to be the self-appointed barkeep got to work on the requested Mudslide. The tall, frosty-eyed Elsa next to him divided her attention between the cheerful probably-not-mortal bartender and the dour, sharp-tongued semi-mortal witchfinder. “The work you did earlier, at the behest of the witches, was part of whatever scheme Marius is cooking up.” he began, sipping at his own drink as he kept his mismatched gaze on Runa. “By his own admission, he wants to cause pain and suffering to a god.” He held up a forefinger. “Just one, and it’s personal, so for all I know it could be his own divine parent. And to do that he’s willing to cause any amount of death and chaos amongst the innocent. Well,” he amended with his usual scrupulous cynicism “if not innocent then at least blameless of doing him any harm.” “And that’s pretty much the basis for my quarrel with him. What he plans to do involves the witches and the large amounts of power you helped them raise, so likely won’t be good for anyone standing around in Salem when midnight arrives. He’s my enemy because he’s an enraged man in pain and wants to turn his pain onto everyone around him.” Grim shrugged his bony shoulders under the cloak draped around them as he took the large glass holding the Mudslide from the bartender and presented it to Runa. “I helped them raise?” The giantess glared at Grim, her cold eyes threatening to pierce him like falling icicles off the eave of a roof. “Do not expect me to feel any manner of remorse for the actions of me or mine. My people have been hunted and prsecuted by the Divine since the dawn of all things, let their worlds burn for a change, I say.” The skeletal-painted bartender slid her drink to Runa and she glared at it for a moment. Whatever the politics were between Titanspawn and Pantheons was something not currently in Grim’s wheelhouse of knowledge, yet she didn’t seem to Helbent on battling Grim or the others, with the exception of Dane it seemed, at every turn. Perhaps cause them an unending amount of trouble, but not see them dead and strewn about as trophies of conquest. “While I am not aware of what the witches are planning, and the Marius one is, as you say, evil. I have witnessed compassion in him for the children like yourself that serve him. I believe that is where the current tension stems from. One of the girls was taken from him by the witches and he sees that as a personal offense against him. Honor among thieves, I suppose?” Satisfied with her inspection of the drink, she raised it to eye-level, admired it almost, before taking a sip to sample its flavor; something, Grim noticed, seemed a bit out of place for a hardened Norse, and a giant descended from his culture’s pantheon. She continued to pose more mysteries with every conversation. “That is…, flavorful.” She conceded with a nod. “Like, coffee with a shot of alcohol in it, but sweet.” She nodded again, almost showing an emotional indicator that seemed accustomed to joy. “I like this. I will have more, but first, the son of Baldur. How do I kill him? His cannon will sear a hole in me if he is aware of my coming. Is he ever without it?” “First, apologies. I didn’t intend to accuse you of anything - merely recount events as they happened.” Grim inclined his head to the giantess. “You did what you did, and for your own reasons. And I do not bear you animosity for it. As you have pointed out, you were working as a mercenary in this - it’s just business.” After a moment, Runa nodded acceptance of his proffered apology, then her eyes narrowed. “And the Baldursson?” “There, I might not be the best of sources.” Grim sipped his bourbon very slightly. “I’ve known Dane only a relatively short time. To the best of my knowledge, though, he’s never without his weapon.” It was tempting - just briefly - to leave it there and let this skein of Fate play itself out, but Dane was a cousin. As annoyingly clueless and surfer-bro attractive as his sunny relative could be, Grim wasn’t so cynical as to try to exploit this for his own gain. That didn’t mean he couldn’t exploit it for Dane’s gain, though. If the giantess wanted to kill him, perhaps that could be turned aside. He fixed Runa with a penetrating, assessing stare. “If I can ask, what is it with you two? I sensed something, back at the graveyard. A tickle on the strands of the Norns. Why do you want to kill him?” “Urðr.” She said calmly and only slightly over the music. “Fate,” she translated, in case Grimm wasn’t up on the Old Norse. “There is a prophecy my elders passed to me. Which of us strikes first will be the victor, but it is by his weapon that I will be defeated. Without it, I am assured victory.” It was a tale as old as Norse time: trying to manipulate Fate in order to avoid one’s own destiny. Grimm knew she was doomed to failure. If Dane was indeed destined to kill her in battle, then there was nothing either of them, or even the gods themselves, could do to stop it. Know one knew that better than Grim’s own father, Odin, the All-Father. She turned, facing the frail Scion as she sipped her mudslide, seeming to savor the flavor. “I like you Usurper Grimsley,” she proclaimed bluntly. “You are honest in your dealings and honorable in your intentions. Those traits are rare in so many of your,” she paused as just outside her and Grim’s field of vision a wandering burrito howled at the moon and displayed it’s proficiency at moving across one of the dance floors using pelvic thrusts as a form of locomotion. She scowled. “...kind. You should know that the one called Marius, I have worked as his advisor of arcane and spiritual lore, and am inclined to do so again, should he have need of me. I tell you this because while I welcome the opportunity to face you in battle, it will disappoint me to have to kill you.” As far as declarations of acceptance went, Grim was pretty sure that wasn’t the worst he was ever going to hear in this crazy new life he’d found himself in. He reflected on that for a few moments, considering the giantess. “I suppose I feel the same. You are the first jotun I have ever spoken with, and not at all as one might expect, Runa. You are learned and wise, and whilst I would enjoy striving against you I think I would consider it a shame if you were to fall, whether at my hand or Dane’s.” He gave the towering blonde a foxish half-smile. “There is a shortage of interesting folk in the world, after all.” He paused, then fished his phone out of his pocket, glowering at it as if annoyed at an interruption - his annoyance not altogether feigned. Under other circumstances, he’d enjoy talking more with the frost giantess, but time was not on his side here. They had until (probably) midnight to get this mess sorted out. He’d established a professional courtesy, had a drink with Runa, and learned some things of interest. He glanced up, meeting her eye. “I need to attend to something.” he told Runa apologetically - again, a largely true statement. “But I would welcome speaking more with you another time, if that would please you?” As he spoke, he thumbed out a text to the group. //Marius is pissed that the witches took one of the Donner Party - probably confirms it’s Mercedes and her two hangers-on that are possessed. Anyone found anything out yet?
  3. Fisher was a bit surprised at hearing this from Lancia. Or rather, whoever was possessing Lancia, now that that was confirmed. Granted, he'd seen some hints of tension or issues in the kitchen room, but nothing on the level of what was being proposed. Assuming this wasn't some sort of complicated trap. Start with gathering more information, he decided. "First things first, which of the three are you? I think it's only appropriate to address you by your actual name." "I'm dressed like Orphan Annie, which do you think?" Her tone was slightly snarky, but she quickly reigned it in. She shrugged off his request dismissively. "Besides, what does it matter? Lancia, Ann, I'm both and neither now. Call me whichever you like." "Okay." Fisher shrugged. "Let's start with the obvious questions: what were you planning on doing, and why are you willing to sabotage it all? The Underworlds vary, but..." A memory of eternal chill lashed his skin for a moment. "They don't have a lot of good places. And I bet you three didn't get assigned to one of those." "Who says I'm sabotaging anything? What's been done can't be undone. The seal was shattered hours ago, it's what Betty has planned for tonight that I intend to stop, providing you and your agree to my terms, which are simple... I help you get rid of Betty and Abigail, and you let me stay. I keep this body and I swear, I won't cause anymore trouble." So there it was, the dastardly little catch - wait, what was that about the seal? Fisher frowned as he realized. Grim had expected the witches to use the ritual tonight to break the seal, so if that wasn't their goal... shit. Assuming she was telling the truth. "The seal to what?" "I don't know," she shrugged shaking her head. "Some sort of seal. One of several that's locking something or someone away. I don't know and I don't care. Now, Betty and Abigail for my freedom. Deal?" She wasn't lying, Fisher realized. And really, it wasn't surprising they hadn't asked, the trio of witches were probably overjoyed at seizing freedom to begin with. Which put him in a difficult position. Morally, noxious as Mercedes and her companions were, letting Ann stay in Lancia's body struck him as wrong. But the Band was clearly steps behind, which wasn't good either. Sure, he could try lying, but Fisher didn't like his chances. "I have to talk to the rest of my Band first." 'Anncia' sighed, rolling her eyes. Apparently that was not the answer she wanted, but instead of complaining further, she signed. "Fine. Go talk to them. Give me your number, I'll text you so you can get in contact with me. I can't be seen associating with any of you or they'll know I'm not going through with it. Let me know when you're ready and I'll find you." Fisher nodded. "Perfectly reasonable." He gave her his number and then left, heading upstairs. Speaking of phones, Fisher pulled out his phone and started texting the others about what Ann said and her offer. And then it hit him that he probably could have texted Grim about the witch trio getting away from the party. Ugh, Fisher found a chair and sat down. Between his failure to seal the witches at the high school, the awkward stumbles when talking with Adrianna, now this. So much for being the smart number two, and a competent hero, was he?
  4. Austin watched the interaction between Marius and Mercedes, and his eyes narrowed. "Oh that's not good." It was likely one of the top five understatements of the month. It almost looked like Marius was accosting a teenager, but Austin found he just couldn't think of Marius as that kind of guy. This wasn't anything like that, this was likely related to something other than simple biology. He focused on the two of them, trying to pick out anything of their conversation. Going off halfcocked wasn't his style, there were times to lead with action, and this didn't seem like one of them. Austin spoke so only the two girls could hear him. "Let's get closer and see if we can hear anything more." The idea of them pretending to be just another party couple looking for somewhere away from the eyes of others in order to get closer flit through his mind, but he didn't think Valerie would agree to that, or anyone else actually believe it if they saw, least of all Marius. Of course it could go really wrong if Yokiko saw them together like that too.
  5. [Grim] Runa watched the tension between Grim and Fisher, critically evaluating them as both. When Fisher walked off the giantess approached the thin Scion of Odin. “You bicker like children.” She said uncaringly. “It’s a wonder you manage to get anything accomplished.” Her eyes narrowed as Fisher slithered back into the crowd and finally disappeared around a corner. Her attention slipped to Grim and she leaned down to speak in his ear over the hundreds of conversations of the party goers and loud music. “I saw you speaking with the one they call Marius.” She stepped past him. “There is dissention in their ranks. There is tension between the witches and the demigod Usurper. I will accept that drink, now. You will tell me of your quarrel with that man and best means by which I might kill Dane Baldurson.” [Fisher] Rest assured he was having enough of Grim’s attitude, still though, his mind was on the task at hand not how he was going handle the All-Son, that was a task for later. Still, it didn’t do much for his own attitude and now that he was seething ever-so-slightly, every party that got in his way made him annoyed just a little more. He offered a silent thank you to whatever god handled those small vacant spaces at parties where people didn’t congregate and allowed one a break from the noise and suffocating proximity of the assembled. He had found such a place at the narrow walkway that led down into the cellar. Mercedes home was new, but it was built upon the bones of an older structure, an older Salem mansion that had met with a fire a century prior. When the Rhodes family adopted the land some fifty years ago, they build their home atop the solid brick cellar and expanded upon it over the years. He wondered if it connected to the maze of tunnels that stretched beneath the whole of Salem, tunnels the city claimed didn’t exist. Fisher knew they did though because he and Darcy had been caught playing in them when they were a lot younger. He clicked on the light and half-expected a row of candles arranged in some satanic symbolism to spark up and in a show as he passed under the two-hundred-year-old red brick arch that separated old construction from new. Instead, the light just flickered into brightness, no cobwebs, or witchy-woo chalk circles of power or a variety local house pets exsanguinated for dark rituals. He sighed, in equal parts relief and disappointment, when all that greeted him were a washer and dryer, several shelves of cleaning detergents for the staff to use, and a variety of laundry accessories. He wandered the massive cellar, which broke off to the left and the right from the laundry area. To his right it led into a large, underground lounge complete with mini bar, couches and comfortable chairs and a eighty-six inch screen television he assumed was for watching football or some other events. Satisfied no demon worship or diabolical occult shenanigans were taking place at the minibar, he ventured into the Rhodes wine cellar, opposite from the lounge. The wine cellar was all old construction, nothing had been modernized or painted, plastered over or concealed in anyway, save perhaps the floor upon which he was crept as silently as he could. This had creepy witchy-woo written all over it. Rows and rows of diamond-cut shelves racked and stacked in a veritable maze of dust, cobwebs, and history. He’d never really been in a wine cellar before so of course he couldn’t help but pick up a bottle or two and read the dates or… whatever one was supposed to do in a wine cellar. It was read the dates and say something like ‘good year’, right? Not knowing if it was truly a good year or not, he set a bottle back in its place and his inner kid was hoping for a bottle to be pulled and it open a secret passage or something, now that would be awesome. “Find what you’re looking for?” Fisher turned swiftly, startled, and looking guilty as hell, to the question asked by Lancea who’d obviously followed him down. She had forgone the curly red wig and now was wearing her wavy copper hair down to cover each shoulder and Fisher honestly did recall little orphan Annie having such a prominent bust, if she could have maybe just done up one more button, it wouldn’t have made him feel so uncomfortable at the notion of being down here alone with her. He was going to hazard a guess that she hadn’t seen the Broadway play of Annie, or the movies. This wasn’t a big deal though, right? After all, he liked Darcy, right? Right? She was attractive, but he wasn’t attracted to her… … … Right? “Did you actually think we’d hide all our ceremony materials right here in the basement?” She giggled as she shook her head. She took a step towards Fisher, who in turn cautiously and visibly tensed, ready for any sudden moves. Lancea paused her advance. “Relax, I’m not going to try and hex you. I know who you are, I recognize you from the high school that night we came back.” She slowly stepped forward, reassuring Fisher that she wasn’t going to try anything (but really, could one trust a witch?). “You’re here to stop us and send us back. I’ll help you, but I have conditions.” [Austin and Valerie] “Um, yeah, Billie can see through all the weird. Sorry, we weren’t trying to keep it from anyone it just, sorta… didn’t come up?” Darcy pursed her lips into a sheepish half-smile that asked for forgiveness over any misunderstanding. “Guys,” she chuckled and looked at the two of them on a swivel when they both brought up her being careful. “I’ll be fine, trust me. I’m trying to help keep my home safe, not get dead. You guys have the superpowers, so trust me, I know when to keep my head down. I appreciate the concern, and that’s not sarcasm, it’s awesome to know your… band?” she wasn’t sure of the proper word to use and looked over to Austin, whom she was more familiar with, to receive the approving nod that her choice was the correct one. “Is totally looking out for me, but I get enough over-protection from Fisher. I need friends more than bodyguards, though so please, please don’t smother me. I’m a big girl, I can lick my own scrapes and bruises, I’m not made of glass.” “He just cares,” Austin said, protecting his friend Fisher. “I know, and I love him for it,” she laughed again. “He’s great, he really is, but I’m not Mercedes, you know? I’m not all expensive dresses, perfect hair, YouTube makeup tutorials. I’m homegrown tomboy through and through, getting dirty doesn’t bother me.” “So, Val, are you in their band now?” She turned to face Valerie, resting her elbows on her knees. “How does that work exactly? Do they just assign you guys or is there like, a means and a metho-,“ she paused as her eyes trailed off and gazed passed the party goers relaxing, talking, and making out in the open-air of the back yard. She didn’t take her eyes off what she was looking, nodding her head to alert the others where her gaze had settled. “Austin? It’s Mercedes… and isn’t that that Marius guy?” They both looked, easily noticing what Darcy was looking at. Out past the boundaries of the party, near a large, ostentatiously elaborate gazebo, Mercedes and Marius were off to the side, partially occluded by the shadows provided by the moon. They were engaged in a rather animated conversation, or rather, Mercedes was rather animated. Marius seemed to remain is usual suave, calm self if his body language was any indication of how things were going down. In a pique of frustration Mercedes appeared to try and turn to walk away, but Marius grabbed her by her arm as she turned from him and pulled her back into the conversation and freshly greeting her by grabbing her chin where he appeared to be issuing some manner of threat. [Nadya] Salem’s sultriest (and certainly the most funnest, Nadya’s words) witch made her way upstairs where the scene was precisely what she expected. When it came unsupervised high school parties, especially of the supernatural variety, the numerous bedrooms of Mercedes’ mansion were getting more mileage than Nadya cared to venture a guess at. The music didn’t quite reach up to the second floor and was muted somewhat but the floor of the upstairs still shook and vibrated from the bass and percussion of the show going on below. The halls were lined with couples (or more) making out or chasing each other in flirtatious antics, which she found herself dodging on more than one occasion with a giggle of her own to offer. While she was nowhere near as promiscuous as her rival, Mercedes (the real one, not that 1800’s heffer currently riding her skin) had made her out to be, these people at the party were, in a nutshell, her people. Dedicated to the enjoyment and fulfillment of just having a good time and not caring what the world thought about it. Free souls enjoying what time they had together, whether it was dancing, drinking, sex… life was too short to live I the shadows of others’ judgements and no others seemed to pull it off better than drunk high schoolers trying to get laid by people they had no idea were supernatural mythical creatures. Fate was hilarious sometimes. As she navigated the crowded, labyrinthine halls of the second floor she noticed the young Asian woman Austin had been dancing with earlier, ‘Yuki’? She was fervently locking lips with a guy whom she’d pressed against a wall. As she pulled away Nadya noticed a shimmer, a glow… a single mote of wispy breath be pulled up his throat and float its way into her, offering a soft luminance that made her neck glow softy for just a moment before the light faded. She grinned slightly, tapping her temporary lover on the cheek a few times as he slid down the wall, collapsing to the carpet. With a shrug and a bounce in her step she moved on. Out of concern, Nadya checked the collapsed teen (whom she had in one of her classes) and he appeared alive, just unconscious. As she stood, Yuki was still prowling, but now engaged in small talk with a few, obviously supernatural, females in the hallway. What else caught her eye was the glimmer of metal that seemed to flash just outside the range of her peripherial vision. Her head craned in the direction of the steel and saw… Niles? With two large pot lids, strapped over her shoulders he’d created a breast plate covering his chest and back, a trashcan lid was acting as a shield and… a large pot was making up his helmet, complete with long handle extending from the back of his head. As if Jonny Appleseed and King Arthur had a retarded love-child. Still, the long sword at his side didn’t seem like it was at all a joke. While others were enjoying themselves however, he appeared to be sneaking around, and the flash she saw was the light catching his… ‘helmet’, as he slipped into one of the rooms off to the side and cautiously looked around before he closed the door. He certainly seemed up to something.
  6. "Not so forgotten now that I know your name," Nadya replied with a fey respect rather than her typical insouciance or frivolity. "I'd like that, Khenti-Khas." Her dark red lips spread in a playful grin as she tapped him on the arm with the business card between her fingers. "Seeya 'round, Nose-Bro. Like you said, I gots to get doing." With a rap of her cane on the luxurious carpet over marble, the lewdly-garbed witch (small 'w') spun on her heel and sauntered off, apparently just another sexually charged teen among the wild party of high schoolers and myths. She glanced at the card, bemused she could read the hieroglyphics. Wondering how she'd even enter the number into her phone, she smirked in delight. Her iTeru III didn't seem to have an issue inputting Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphics, the keyboard adapting intuitively. Ptah - or whoever her divine mother had gotten the phone from - did good work. Number entered into her phone, Nadya somehow managed to deftly tuck it and the business card out of sight in the brief and hardly concealing costume she was wearing. Now, up or down? Conventional wisdom, and from, like, every supernatural YA novel and series ever, if a dark ritual wasn't taking place outside, it would be in the deepest, dankest hole or basement available. But this was Mercedes' house, the dankest thing in the place were probably memes. On the other hand, rich folk tended to prefer to keep their valuables close to hand when they weren't in a bank, safes and lockboxes hidden - or not so hidden - in their bedrooms, walk-in closets, or offices. So upstairs was promising too... though honestly, as much as she wanted to find the vessel and the witches, she just wanted to be nosey. Upstairs then, convenient too, since Nadya came across the grand staircase before the stairs down to the basement. Phone out once more, a surreptitious pic of the tall Elsa and another random party-goer, Nadya pretended to receive a text, the spoke just loud enough to be heard while feigning a text back. "Which room?" Giggle. "Kk. Leave the boots on. And the tail." Lascivious smile plastered on her face, Nadya practically skipped up the wide steps with blatant intent to disguise her real one.
  7. "Huh. That's a trip." Valerie nonchalantly said to Darcy explanation with a shrug of her shoulders as she thought about what Darcy described for a moment. "Sounds like you somehow made a pinhole in the veil that hides all this stuff," she made a casual wave of her had at the assembled multitude of divine and supernatural beings, "...and then ripped at the hole making it bigger and bigger until you finally just tore that shit off. Way to take charge of your life." she said as she held out her fist toward Darcy who, after hesitating for a moment, awkwardly bumped it with her own fist. "Uh, thanks." Valerie shook her head and took a sip of the amber hued beer. "Don't sell yourself short. It takes some big ol' ladyballs to be mortal, see a bunch of supernatural stuff, and not just run off in terror, especially when shit's goin' down. Like Austin said though, don't get overconfident or anything, because you are still mortal, but still, that's badass and if you got our back, then we got yours." That was supposing Darcy was just a mortal, of course, and not something that had yet to fully awaken.
  8. Austin chuckled at Darcy's last comment. "You're right about that." He had a new respect for Darcy. She was just a normal human, and she was still standing with them against the dangers they faced. He felt a small twinge of envy towards Fisher, for having someone like Darcy, and smiled. "Just don't get in over your head. If you need backup, call us. We take care of our own." He looked at her. "Wait, Billie knows about all of this too? He can see the truth of things too?" That was news to him, and he frowned. "Well it's done now, the important thing now is that we do know now, so at least that's one less secret to be keeping from friends." He sighed. They would have to be more careful going forward, more aware of who was actually there, and who might be, or else this would involve even more people, and endanger them too. They'd already had their families directly threatened once, and that was only the beginning. He idly wondered how the others were getting on, if they were having better luck than normal tonight. He looked to Val and smiled. "So yeah, we've got some great backup too. An extra couple of sets of ears and eyes, and people to keep us grounded." He wasn't being facetious, he meant it.
  9. "Thanks!" Fisher beamed as if he hadn't heard Grim insult him. Grim began to wonder if Fisher had hit his head somewhere before Fisher stepped in and frowned, with an embarrassed look. "Listen, Nads..." Fisher leaned in and whispered in Grim's ear. "I came here to let you know, and only mentioned Darcy to throw Runa off. Get your head out of your ass, Grim." Was Grimsley like this 24/7, always assuming everyone was being stupid? That was a question for another time. Fisher leaned back. "So watch out for guys with melted cheese and guacamole all over their jerseys. Gonna find Darcy now. Bye." The Amatsukami Scion left, not to see his girlfriend, but to go back to following up on the Terrible Trio. They were looking for privacy, so that first meant going deeper into the mansion beyond where most people definitely would. Upstairs or downstairs then? Probably downstairs to start. Basements made the most sense.
  10. "Was that comment an attempt at posturing, Betrayer?" 'Elsas' frosty blue eyes levelled on Fisher from her height advantage, which added to the overall air of disdain the giantess radiated at Izanami's scion. Grim was mildly impressed, and took notes for perfecting his own withering glares. "Let me be clear, small man." Runa went on, her voice edged with icicles. "If you wish to issue a challenge, then do so. If not, cower in silence." Grim was tempted to allow Fisher to twist in the breeze from the petard he'd just hoisted himself on, especially since his idiot Bandmate and fellow traveler had admitted to seeing Mercedes' two henchwomen and letting them wander off to gods-knew where in favor of seeking out his mortal squeeze. His teeth clenched slightly, but with deliberate effort he relaxed and breathed, remembering the moment of clarity he'd had confronting Marius. Take the world as it comes, and don't let it grind away empathy. he reminded himself. Even, that treacherous inner voice addended, when some people tempt you to take your own empathy and shoot it in the face. "Iced hot chocolate isn't really a party drink." he commented smoothly after only a moment of allowing Runa's glacial stare to flay Fisher's eyeballs. "Though I'm pretty sure we can find a Mudslide here for you, Runa." It was phrased as much as an offer as a statement. Runa's brow furrowed, her glare turning both puzzled and wary as she switched it to the Odinson's face. "This costume was expensive, Usurper." she glowered. "I have no wish to take part in whatever disgusting wallowing perversion you have in mind." Grim blinked, momentarily at a loss before realising that the frost giantess had no idea what he was talking about. He reassessed her age and experience with the human world. "Oh, no. It's a drink. Served cold, with chocolate and cream liquor in it." Runa's glower was unabated for a moment longer, the suspicion in her blue eyes slowly giving way to wary intrigue. "A drink? You are offering me a drink?" she asked, seeking clarification. "Certainly. I did mention during our earlier meeting that should we meet under better circumstance, we could share a drink." he reminded her. "This is a party, and by your own admission your part in the witches scheme is done with the work in the cemetery. What say you?" Grim smiled pleasantly as Runa thought that over, turning to Fisher and leaning close to the fellow scion, pitching his voice under the music and chatter. "Get your head out of your ass and in the game." he murmured, keeping a pleasant expression on his features. "Unless Darcy is doing your job and tailing Lancia and Porsche to wherever they went, I don't care where she is and neither should you. Get eyes on them, or Mercedes. Find those witches and try not to pick any more fights with gods-damned giants." He glanced around as though looking for Fisher's missing girlfriend before raising his voice to a more party-conversational level. "I think I saw her in the other room, talking to some people from school." he told Izanami's son, gesturing aimlessly towards an adjoining room in the palatial mansion as he turned back to Runa, awaiting her decision.
  11. "I haven't seen any iced hot chocolates about." Fisher said, giving Runa/Elsa a look. Sure, the frost giant might be done with the graveyard and witch scheming, but that didn't mean he overlooked her threatening Darcy. The fact that Fisher had pointed to it for evidence that Darcy shouldn't be diving into supernatural showdowns was irrelevant and totally not hypocritical. Not in the slightest. Teenage boy mind says 'nothing to see here, move along now. Arigato.' "Honestly, it might be a bit over-packed." Fisher said casually. "Lancia and Porsche have ran off to find some privacy, and they're the hosts. Well, Mercedes' assistant hosts. They really didn't think this through." Well, Fisher thought they were likely to get ready to start whatever they were up to, if the trio were the witches, and he was sure Grim would catch the hint. "Speaking of packed, do you know where Darcy is? I looked, but I can't see her in all this..." He waved an arm at the crowd.
  12. Quit Yer Witchin'! ...times are tough for the heroic Band of Scions! A couple days ago Homecoming proved to be a powerful lesson in what could happen when the powers of divine Birthrights fell into the hands of the inexperienced or became a tool for mortal greed. Now, All Hallow's Eve is quickly approaching Salem and the ancient spirits of three of history's most powerful witches were summoned from the Underworld and took possession of the bodies of Salem's citizenry, but who are they? What could they be planning? Desperate for answers the Band continues to research by day and hunt by night, hoping to find any activity that might lead them to the hidden identities of Betty Parris, Abigail Williams, Ann Putnam. More importantly... Mercedes Rhodes is throwing her legendary, annual Halloween party and all of Shelly High is invited! The Old Stables, 48 hours before the party... Darcy stood at the makeshift table which was nothing more than a large piece of plywood set on stacked milk crates. A large map of Salem was unfolded, marked in numerous places in red sharpie. She nicked off two more spots on the map. “Well, that's St. Mary's and Greenlawn,” she sighed looking at the map, crossing the two cemetery's off. “Jackson Park was a bust, and King Town Forrest was a no go.” “Just a few harpies and an edgy nymph trying to play pranks on a homeless guy,” Rachel shrugged. Wolf nuzzled her his his giant head and she smirked at him and scratched under his chin. He was getting larger by the day and had already grew from the size of a pony to a full grown horse. That leaves Harmony Grove Cemetery and it'll take all of us to scour Salem Woods,” in a pique of frustration she tossed the sharpie onto the table. “This is hopeless. We don't even know whose bodies they jumped into. We are literally looking for a needle in a needle stack.” “I'm concerned about who they might be, but one thing is certain and that Marius is behind this.” Rachel added. “And by that I mean, he set this up for those three specific souls to be summoned, why them? We already know he's up to know he's up to no good, but what do these three know that he needed to go through all of this to get them here?” “Agreed,” Grim said calmly. “Finding them is just as important as knowing why they were summoned to begin with. Unfortunately, Fisher and I have tried everything and as long as they are riding the living, our eyes can not detect them. These are proficient witches, to be sure.” “I'm really not liking this magic crap.” Rachel huffed. “What about Niles? He was there, he uses magic and, he's a Scion too, now, I guess? Couldn't he have been possessed?” Austin, who was sitting on some crates texting Yokiko, shook his head. “No. The way the souls left, they shot off and out into the school and the surrounding area, away from the room, Todd and Niles. My guess is it's three people in the school.” “Your guess?” The band's blonde leader snapped at Austin, her arms crossed and tone superior. Austin shrugged. “You have something better?” There was a pregnant pause as he clicked the side of his phone to shut it off and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “Yeah, didn't think so.” “Guys,” Nadya leaned on the table next to Darcy. “Can we wait until after we've solved this before we start killing each other? We have a serious issue to address and being at each other's throats is only going to make our jobs harder.” The red cap slid back onto the Sharpie and Fisher set the pen down on the map. “She's right, guys. We need to stay focused and find someway to locate these witches before they can cause too much of a problem.” Nadya looked at Fisher like he was nuts. “What? No, I meant Mercedes' Halloween party! Guys, I just got my body back and we haven't properly partied in months. So, who's going as what?”
  13. Will there be a continuation on this? Saw that there was some interest, so I thought I'd ask...
  14. Ok then! It was a bit unclear as to what was going on. Glad to know you're still up for continuing.
  15. I was pulled away due to holiday obligations. I have not dropped the game and in fact just game to write the next post.
  16. It didn't last very long. Sad face, but thanks for the time, guys.
  17. It doesn't appear as if this is happening. I'm gracefully stepping out of this one.
  18. "Emperor's ass cheeks!" Gavin flew up from his slab and stomped to the particle screen. "Some of us are trying to relax before we're collared and sold back into slavery. But you wouldn't know that because you've never been!" [Persuasion, 20] He looked at the guard. "Stun her. Please? Just shut her the hell up so I can get some rest. So we can all get some damn peace and quiet. Because until you do, she's just going to keep raising hell, I know. I live with her."
  19. Arcata's eyes flicked from the direction she heard Aurora's voice in back to the guard. There was just a second, where he was weighing her words but hadn't made a decision. Just a second where she might be able to undo the damage. She needed a point of leverage. There. On his left sleeve, a red stripe with a black mark shaped like an arc with sharp projections inward. A styled fanged maw, gaping wide. Somehow, out of somewhere in the back of her head, two words came to her. Rabid Rancors. With the words came a slurry of information. Swoop gang. Nar Shadda. Arcata was dimly alarmed that she had no idea why she had such detailed recollections of a minor swoop gang so readily memorized, but in this case it was useful. She remembered they were bitter rivals with the far larger and richer Black Vulkars gang. "Gavin, pay attention!" she shouted angrily. "I want you to take note of this." She then got near the forcefield and directed her voice in Aurora's direction. "Whoever you are over there, you've made a very bad decision crossing me! One word from me to the rest of the Black Vulkars, and you'll never have safe berth anywhere in this arm of the galaxy! There's no outrunning us!" Inwardly she tensed, subconsciously trying to prepare for the incoming blaster bolt, even though she knew it wouldn't make a difference. All Operatives were subjected to stun bolts during training and remembered very well how it felt. She also knew from experience that there were a lot of variables. It wasn't impossible that she'd get lucky... Hopefully Gavin would listen to her and break out of his funk...and if not, hopefully she could fend this ganger off. Thin hopes, but much better than none.
  20. Gavin fumed and rolled his eyes while throwing his hands up in the air. "Are you serious lady? Stupid schutta." He shook his head and walked away from the force field, collapsing onto his slab and lying down. "Real smooth, lady. Real smooth. Now we can all just die in here, because they're not going to let you out. This doesn't, like you, doesn't care about anyone but himself and he can fetch a decent price and prestige for a few of us, I'm sure." He rolled over and faced the wall. "Oh, well. We tried."
  21. Frankly the whole stuck in cells with our memories wiped just isn't jiving with me. And since Aurora is deliberately working against us, wake me up when we're done with this prison phase. I've not the time, nor the inclination to play 'escape from prison with no memories of how you got there' before I've even had a chance to get the character's feet wet. Gavin will retire to his slab and just simply wait to either be sold back into slavery, killed, or freed by the others. Personally, if we do get out, we should leave her behind and take the ship for ourselves. I don't see any value to having someone who is just going to sell us down the river the first chance they get. I don't have time to play 10,000 posts of plotting an escape while one character does their best to undo it all. Let me know when we're past this part.
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