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Fisher Capra last won the day on March 28 2019

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  1. 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?
  2. "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.
  3. "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.
  4. "Thanks for the plaudits." Fisher said honestly. Although, were he a real bartender, he probably should have been able to slip in a 'what's on your mind?' like the guys on television did. More information on Mercedes' trio, whether or not actually witch-possessed, couldn't hurt. Well, there was one conversational point open here. "The whole house is packed." He reasonably pointed out. "Where could you possibly go to get away?" If this ritual was going down at the party, it would have to take place in private, and there wasn't much of that around here. Lancia gave him a coy look. "Sorry, that's a secret." Accepting defeat, Fisher raised a glass to her in turn, and Lancia turned and departed, hips - no. Fisher sighed, and sipped a little bit more from his glass of experimental drink. Not being Rachel or Nadya, he doubted he could track her through the noise and crowd, so he lifted the glass and decided to find and update Grim, since the heterochromatic Scion was coordinating their operation.
  5. Huh. It was the first time Fisher, in his admittedly limited exposure to the popular types, had seen a rift show between Mercedes' posse. Their characteristic silence obviously played a large part in this image of unified oppression over geeks, nerds, and anyone else Mercedes felt like stomping into the dirt to demonstrate her dominance or because she just felt like it. "It's not exactly professional." Fisher warned her. "I'll take my chances." Lancia replied, her voice making a reckless leap into amateur alcohol sound like an elegant swan dive into some lush glade pool. She really was one of Aphrodite's handpicked people, wasn't she? Fisher shrugged and repeated the process, fixing another glass of his concoction, before offering it to her. "Hope you enjoy." To his surprise, Lancia downed it quickly. "Seems fine to me." She flashed him another smile, and Fisher recognized how guys could go crazy so easily. "Another one, please." Really? Well, Fisher figured, if she really wanted to put her liver to the test... He shrugged. "Your funeral." The Scion of Izanami observed the near-empty jar of olives and started looking for another.
  6. Was Lancia a car brand? Because it was fitting that the witchly three - great, now Nadya was getting into his head there - would bear the names of fancy cars with great looks, and terrible, terrible costs. Fisher had been fortunately enough to generally avoid their attentions, because he'd already had the unfortunate attentions of Eric Donner to begin with. Nadya, thy sacrifices for the good of all have been noted, and the multitude shall, in their hearts, render infinite thanks shielding them from dat ass- No! Fisher jerked his eyes away from Porsche's ample, bouncy booty. EVIL BOOTY! Steel yourself, Scion of Izanami, from unclean temptations fueled by hormones. For they are Medusa reversed. Hot chick on the outside, snakes absolutely inside. Remember the pure charms of Darcy! Fisher focused on trying to pull something together from the drink options. With the divine constitution of one with the grave in his ichor, Fisher figured he'd be fine as long as he only served himself his concoctions. Thus, he began experimenting with elixirs, one ear picking up the two harpies (not the literal ones, sadly, you could spear those without consequences or potential remorse) flirting with the gormless guys around. So the gin was there, and the vermouth - a pair of black olives packed with juice to squeeze in... wait? What was that?
  7. Okay, seriously, what was Yukiko's problem here? What was wrong with one or two recommendations to use as a good starting point? Apparently, Yukiko was very much part of the Donner Party, able to tell him about how the Band reflected on oneself without a trace of awareness as to the irony. Fisher was tempted to open his mouth and call her out on it, but his skin prickled for a moment, phantom chills from Jigoku running down his neck. No, he was better off simply taking what worthwhile suggestions she had presented and let the mockery slide off like water off a duck's back. "This was very enlightening, Yukiko. Thank you. Please excuse me." Fisher turned and walked off, finishing off his Irish Coffee. At this point, he was tempted to get another one, to take his mind off the Scion of Susanoo's edged and pompous lecture. Fisher shook his head, realizing he shouldn't let it weigh on his mind. Let Yukiko sneer, his Band would speak for itself tonight, through deeds, not words. That said, he did feel like another drink. Yes, how about a martini, shaken not stirred. Just to see if James Bond was onto something there.
  8. "Blunt... but I take your point." Fisher admitted in the face of Yukiko's withering critique. In defense of anime and manga, to conflate them with Western comic books and cartoons was drastically unfair. Fisher had always enjoyed some of them, yes. But he'd found anime and manga to be different. They presented a much greater variety of genres and concepts, and richer, deeper stories. It was not just the epic fight scenes associated with Dragonball Abridged, but there were the intricate, masterful strategies of Legend of Galactic Heroes, the wacky yet passionate adventures of One Piece, just to name a few. In short, they resonated with him in a way that just felt right. So learning he was the child of a Japanese goddess seemed fitting. Being blamed for the actions of some guys who needed to take a chill pill was unfair, and shouldn't be an indictment of the art form. But Fisher recognized that the Amatsukami was millennia older than Astro Boy. He'd only focused his efforts on studying the beings and monsters of Japanese myth, and the stories, to a lesser extent, while neglecting the culture behind it. "So... Yamamoto Tsunetomo. What else do you recommended I look up?"
  9. In the face of Yukiko's impassive bluntness, Fisher could responded that it probably wasn't luck. He could have pointed out that his Band had worked well together, both in small groups, and as a whole. He could have mentioned that they'd done everything while having multiple newer Scions pumped through the Band by their mentors. That their collective mentors had done so because they regarded his Band that much more highly than the Donner Party. He could have said all these things, but chose not to. Fisher had learned the consequences of letting his emotional grievances take the reins. He was not going to make the same mistake twice. So Fisher simply smiled politely at Yukiko. "I see. Would you please explain it to me then?" At worst, she'd probably call him a lucky fool some more. And if he was lucky, he might just learn something. "Luck?" She craned her head to look at him, her long parted slightly allowing him to see her pale face hidden behind a curtain of shadow. "It's when you bungle through experience after experience with no real measure of talent or skill." "What it means to be Amatsukami." Fisher replied, keeping his expression under control.
  10. Fisher and Darcy entered the mansion hand in hand, as the clamor of music, chatter and other noises poured over them like a tidal wave. Carefully, they worked their ways through a knot of teenagers, one of whose hair flowed like grass in the wind - probably because, to Fisher's eyes, it actually was grass. Darcy playfully punched him in the shoulder. "She a magical girl, or should I be worried about your wandering eyes?" "Nymphs aren't my type," Fisher insisted, "and the only magical girls I care about are Madoka Kaname and Homura Akemi." Darcy held a hand up to her mouth, gaping in mock horror. "Heresy! In the name of the moon, I shall punish you!" Fisher chuckled. "I'm pretty sure the Scions of Tsukuyomi have dibs on that line." "Mmm." Darcy hummed, then her eyes glinted as she pointed out a black-haired, tan-skinned woman, who had come with her pet. The cat riding on her shoulder looked somewhat like a miniature lion, stretching his head out to take in the sights and sounds, managing to remain balanced while retaining a languid feline air. "Let me guess, Egyptian goddess?" "Egyptian someone." Fisher partially agreed. The cat in question, in his view, had not stuck out its neck, so much as there was a whole lot of neck. "She's got a pet serpopard." This became a game for the two. Darcy identified people she suspected to be mythical beings in disguise and guessed what they were, Fisher used his Scion-VisionTM and extensive reading on the subject to confirm or correct her claims. It amused them long enough to reach one of the bars. The bartender, Fisher observed, had the distinctive long nose and wings of a tengu. From the list of cocktails, Darcy selected a Pina Colada, and Fisher got an Irish Coffee. Darcy split off after they received their drinks, having spotted a friend she wanted to say hello to. Her boyfriend took a swallow of his drink, tasting the richness of the cream and sugar, then found a spot against one of the walls, where he could watch the flow of the crowds and see if anyone stood out. Beyond the obvious bevy of supernatural attendees, obviously. It occurred to him that he hadn't done any drawing lately, and so he preserved the images in his mind. A funny thing, how the reality of his life now seemed to surpass the imaginations of his artwork to date. Movement caught his peripheral vision, and Fisher turned his head to see Yukiko walking over. "Fisher." She tersely greeted him. The other Scion of the Amatsukami held a glass filled with something he didn't recognize, and leaned back against the wall beside him. From the stony look on her face, Fisher suspected she was not fond of the crowds. "Yukiko." Fisher politely responded. She had the distinct flaw of being in the Donner Party, but then again, as an exchange student and Scion, she probably hadn't joined them by choice. She didn't quite follow them into their depths of wrongness, And Austin seemed to be having something going with her, which further confirmed her being a cut above the rest of them (a bar low enough to challenge a limbo expert, to be sure). They were in the same pantheon, but he didn't know a lot about her, it occurred to him. And another thing popped into his head. "I was wondering. Doesn't it feel weird that we're about the same age, but I'm technically your uncle?" A rather unusual conversation opener to be sure, but Fisher admitted to himself that his curiosity had been pricked once he started thinking about it.
  11. Fisher sidled up to Darcy while the others drifted in, smiling. "Hey, you look great. Wanna be the girl in my chair?" Darcy laughed. "Now that's terrible, I find you guilty and banish you to a dark terrible future where my word is law..." Fisher grinned unashamedly. "But you love me anyway." "Yes," Darcy admitted, "I do." Fisher and she kissed, and he felt a thrill run through him. Arguments and worries aside, he was so happy to be with her. Then the vaguely familiar black girl arrived and introduced herself. Yet another new Scion to teach without being informed. Yes, better the Band than Donner's bunch of... wait. Fisher remembered now he'd heard something about Horace Farrow and Valerie Vaskr, that the sick creep hit on her regularly and she hated him. Not exactly as good as loathing Eric Donner himself, but... "Witches?" Val inquired. "Yes," Fisher answered. "The genuine culprits from the Salem Witch Trials. And we don't know which three people they're possessing. It might not actually be Mercedes, you know." Nadya looked at the Amatsukami scion as if he claimed the sky was chartreuse. "Anyway," Fisher went on, "welcome to the Band, Valerie."
  12. Fisher frowned as he tried to work his hair into the proper shape, but no, even with the band holding it in place, it still looked like a poor excuse for a top-knot. A consequence of his short hair, he acknowledged. In hindsight, it would have been much easier if he'd settled for Season 5 after all. Well, Fisher figured as he looked himself over, it was probably as good as it was going to get, and everything else looked good. A white and grey gi, the obi wrapped tightly around his waist... Fisher bounced his feet off the ground, hearing the clack of the wooden geta sandals. And of course, the replica katana to smite evil. Comb Tooth in pen form had been slipped into the obi. Fisher turned and headed out. "Fisher?" Fisher stopped as he was approaching the door, and turned to see his father looking at him. Philip frowned, seeming to notice the costume his son was wearing. "Are you going out?" "Yeah, big Halloween party." Fisher said. "Oh. Just that I thought we could watch a movie together. It's been a while since we've done anything together." Philip said cautiously. Fisher felt his gut wrench on the spot. Normally, this would be one of the most wonderful things to happen - except he needed to go to Mercedes' house to help protect the world and the band was expecting him. Fisher opened his mouth, not sure what to say, but then Philip shrugged. "Don't worry. If you already have plans, go ahead." Philip assured him, though the resigned or perhaps somber layer in his voice bothered Fisher terribly. "Ok," he said, "but maybe another night?" "Another night. Have a good night, Fisher." * * * * * * "It suits him." Fisher approached. "Just as the burrito... suits you." Fisher decided to say. He looked at the house, and the mythical guests mixed in the crowd. "Do you think they can sense what's going on, or is Fate just making things difficult for us as usual?"
  13. Fisher frowned at the poisonous nature of the words drifting between Dane and Adrianna. The question that had rested at the back of his mind was coming to the fore. Should he ask it though, given Dane's angered state? Well, yes, he had to. It was clear that the bad blood between the two was the obstacle between this deal they needed, and the harm the World faced if the seal broke could well be incalculable. And he could not bridge it, without understanding the source. "Dane, be honest with us." Fisher spoke softly, hands shoved in his pockets. "I have been honest." Dane growled at the scion of the Kami, his face taking on ever more a wolfish cast. "Yes, you have," Fisher agreed, whispering softly, "but you haven't told us everything. The way you told it, Adrianna took a big one for the team, to protect you guys. Sure, I could see she being pissed at you for ruining it by getting into the fight, but it certainly doesn't explain why you're at her throat." Fisher stared at Dane, non-judgemental but insistent. "So what happened afterward?"
  14. "Yeah." Fisher said, trying to bring up the Fisherhigherlogic.exe in the welter of emotion and hormones. Darcy's words were... well, they resounded surprisingly well with Fisher despite his wish otherwise. Because, let's be honest, Fisher wouldn't have liked her like that if Darcy wasn't that energetic, go-getting, determined girl. The Amatsukami Scion had subordinated that to a desire to keep her safe and protected. Knowing how willing she was to step up and take the risk alongside him was both alarming and comforting too, he realized. Something Fisher wasn't going to work through in an evening. Grim moving the topic over to Adrianna reminded him. "About that. So I went and told Mr. Syracuse... He said it was all right, he'd told Zeus about the Nekiya a while ago. He also advised us to continue pretending she's got leverage over us, and use that to help figure out what Adrianna's plans and if we can trust her. Something to keep in mind while we're planning this."
  15. Fisher breathed out, some of the tension going away as the group left. It could have gone much worse, particularly with Darcy drawing attention as she did. He was forced to utter another, smaller sigh at Dane's... Dane-ness, and Grim's understandable reaction. Austin going alone with it did not help. For now he just settled for holding Darcy's hand as they walked away. "See," he told her, "this is what I was talking about." "In their eyes - and I suspect, most of the beings we're gonna be dealing with - you're just a 'mortal.' As Popo put it: you're below the dirt, let alone the worms in the dirt. If it wouldn't have started a fight, she'd probably have..." Fisher shied away from directly spelling it out. "Well, 'pecking order, bitch' and you don't have Krillin's ability to take a hit. And this was a peaceful conversation." A fight from the beginning, with Dane as a protector, Fisher knew how easily that would end tragically. "So do you get why I don't want you going in with us in these situations?"
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