"It Comes From Beneath!" Chapter 1 - Gathering

[metaphysician]

Any Scion who has lived the life understands that occasionally, they will receive the odd mysterious message. For Richard, it was an unlabeled envelope left upon his Impala, with no hint of anyone around save distant bird noises. For Serge, a courier showing certain military style identification code marking him as a cheval. For Amica, a cat literally plopping down next to her with a small bag in her mouth. And Nick? He simply got an email with the right encryption and attachments.

In all cases, though, the meaning is the same: a 'request' ( order ) from on high. The destination, New York City, specifically, the Library Hotel, one of finest in the city. The provided room number not a bedroom, however, but a conference room.

On openning the door to the conference room, each Scion finds a simple but elegant modern setup, with a large wooden table with numerous chairs at the center, and against one wall, a modern telecommunications array with a large screen monitor, currently turned off.

[BlueNinja]

Two days before the conference room

Tehatchapi, California, 0830

Dick exited the motel room, spinning the keycard in his hand. His spirits were up - dropping the side of a mountain onto a Grendel will do that for you. And the hot waitress had come to his place at the end of her shift, and left with no fussing or teary-eyed complaints. All was right with the world. He turned in the keycard, opened the door, and sat down.

Sitting on the windshield was a piece of paper tucked underneath the windshield wiper. "Oh, Hell no," he muttered, then got up long enough to reach around and grab it. Looking at the blank envelope, he opened it, and read the paper within. Then he pulled out his phone and dialed up uncle Bobby. "Hey, Bobby, who's Rig?"

"That would be the guy who gave you the car," the older man said dryly. "He drop by and introduce himself again?"

"No," Dick said, now feeling slightly annoyed. "He left an envelope on my windshield, with an address and a time, in New York city. Can I not show up?"

Bobby chuckled. "You can," he said.

Dick finished the rest of the sentence for him. "But that would be stupid. Yeah, that's what I figured. Does he not realize that driving from California to New York is not a simple task?"

"You could always fly," Bobby said. "Hell, I could have you a first class plane ticket before you even reached the airport."

"And leave my baby? You have got to be kidding me." It was more understood than heard that his uncle was sticking his tongue out on the other end of the line. "Hell with it. I'll just have to stock up on some energy drinks and drive like mad. With my luck, I'll be the last one to show up, and there'll be a penalty for last man through the door."

"Be safe on those roads. You don't need another speeding ticket on your record."

"Didn't you wipe my record?" Dick asked as he revved the car to life, backing out of his parking spot.

"That's not the point," Bobby protested, right before Dick hung up on him.

Pulling a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket, Dick rolled down his window, cranked up an Aerosmith CD, and gunned it onto the freeway. By the time the chorus to "Get a Grip" was playing, he was already doing a hundred fifty in the California sunlight, headed towards Vegas.

[Alex Green]

Nikos Papadopoulos

Two days before the conference room

Nick watched Goldie put together the car's engine, waited a moment, then ordered him (her? it?) to take it apart and start over. With long suffering tolerance the creature(?) quickly and flawlessly disassembled the engine and started over once again.

Watching it work was a constant source of wonder, amazement, frustration, education, and inspiration for Nick. His father's "Golden Servant" was annoyingly good... no, that wasn't fair. Hephaestus' toy was *much* better than Nick at everything mechanical and artistic. This had the awkward result that his *best* work wasn't as good as the scut work he had Goldie do. It had the equally awkward result that the more time he put in the less productive 'he' was. When he watched TGSoH work he couldn't help but make it slow down, do things multiple times, and learn from it.

How in the name of dad does it do that? Eight tentacles, three legs... and what is that tentacle right there doing, and more important, why?

Nick said out loud, "What is that tentacle over there doing?"

From the other side of the car, Alex replied, It's switching tools between that one over there and that other one. That's why we don't see them switch sides, they don't.

Nick replied, "Ha! Thank you."

Alex replied, No problem. Please have it change channels to CNN. I want to watch the news.

Nick said, "Goldie, change channels to CNN."

Goldie reached over with a tentacle and fiddled with the remote control. Alex turned back to the TV and Nick kept watching the TGSoH. Nick remarked, "One of these days I'll figure out how to make it hear you."

Alex replied almost with humor, I can't wait. But as long as we're wishing... an android body I could possess would be cool.

Nick's computer chimed that special note which meant a high priority email had come in.

[SalmonMax]

A couple days ago...

Amica sat down on a bench near the bike rack she'd used with a Subway sandwich swinging from her wrist in its little plastic baggie. It was a glorious day in Boston. The sun was high and bright and warm, chasing the last lingering chills of winter far away. The air was clean and fresh, a brisk sea breeze chasing the city's pollution out and up. And, most importantly, it was her day off. Today of all days, someone else could fill the cups of the homeless and needy with soup, and someone else could enter data and file files at the medical center...and yes, even someone else could scourge the amoral composite hearts of companies who pinched pennies by cutting corners by endangering lives.

As far as Amica Mason was concerned, the doctor was out for one damn day. The world could take care of itself.

She sighed contentedly and turned sideways to take up the whole bench, then fished her sandwich out. The sun was warm on her arms and legs and face. The tuna sandwich's pungence teased her nose, made her mouth water, but she took her time unwrapping it. The first bite was something to be savored. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a guy staring at her as he passed. She grinned at him mischievously, wondering if he'd come over to talk. On the one hand, he wasn't bad looking himself. On the other...sandwich. But it seemed he had somewhere to be, and the sandwich wasn't going anywhere, so she took a bite and closed her eyes as she chewed.

Then something rubbed against one of her legs, something fuzzy. Something that purred. Her eyes flew open and sure enough, a cat had come over and jumped up onto the bench. A big orange female who was even now staring fixedly at her sandwich, even as she played nice-nice. Amica laughed and reached out to let the cat smell her fingers, perhaps pet it, but with all the guile of a court agent serving a summons the cat reared up and dropped a small leather pouch it had been carrying in its mouth into Amica's hand. She then dropped back off the bench and hurried off...perhaps anticipating Amica's reaction.

Taken by surprise, Amica stared at the pouch, her sandwich forgotten. Pop quiz: Who sends messages in old leather sacks via cat? Answer: It's my damn day off! She closed her eyes. Try explaining that to 'Mother.'

With some resignation, she opened the pouch, polishing off the sandwich as she did.

New York - Now.

Amica got to the hotel conference room first, it seemed, and she paced around it for several minutes, as if memorizing its walls, and doors and contents. From there she went to inspect the big monitor and the equipment it was connected to. Neither a Luddite nor particularly a techie, she couldn't identify specifically what it all was.

Finally she restlessly prowled to the back wall and leaned against it so she could see the door and just waited for whoever else showed up.

[Alex Green]

Nikos Papadopoulos

Two days before the conference room

Nick sat down and opened his email. He said "I think it's from Dad." Nick's voice said uncertainty.

Alex walked over and asked in a worried tone of voice, Is it about me? The hopeful answer to that was 'no'. Neither of the brothers wanted Alex sent back to Hades. He hadn't quite qualified for the Greek's paradise. He wouldn't be punished, exactly, but Hades was grim for people who hadn't qualified. Of course 'grim' wasn't the 'unspeakably-awful' that Hades inflicted on people who deserved punishment, but it was bad enough.

Nick looked down and replied, "No. It's an invite. But it's on the private line, and it's clearly a you will do this thing. Looks like we're going to New York, specifically the 'Library Hotel.' 299 Madison Avenue... one small block away from the Public Library."

Alex commented, That's not a bed room, that's a conference room. Definitely a command performance.

Two Days Later

Nick walked into the conference room and immediately noticed the large screen and the woman at the wall.

Alex said to Nick, Our host?

Alex gave the woman a warm smile and said, "I'm Nick. Are you our hostess or a fellow guest?"

[SalmonMax]

Nick walked into the conference room and immediately noticed the large screen and the woman at the wall.

Alex said to Nick, Our host?

Alex gave the woman a warm smile and said, "I'm Nick. Are you our hostess or a fellow guest?"

Amica watched Nick enter, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. Not bad looking...beard's maybe got a 70's vibe, but not bad. Wonder who's litter he's from. Is this an Egypt only party, or can anyone play... She smiled in return and walked around the table to offer her hand.

"I'm Amica," she answered, without addressing the 'host or guest' question. "It's a little awkward, isn't it? Meeting a stranger under these circumstances. You or I could be something completely different from how we look. Mortal or immortal. Friend or rival."

She grinned, and though it was warm and friendly, there was a kind of wild, feral look in her eye that made it easy to believe that she could, maybe would do just about anything except what one expected.

[BlueNinja]

Half an hour before the conference

Parking garage beneath the hotel, NYC

Dick Winchester turned off the engine on his Impala, and knuckled his eyes. Making a sour face, he chugged the last half of a can of Monster, then added it to the trash bag to finish off the three dozen. "Oh man," he moaned. "Whichever aunt or uncle of mine is in charge of medicine, I am so going to ask you for something to keep me awake that doesn't taste like that."

Groaning, he fumbled at his pocket for a moment, pulling out his iPhone. "Half an hour," he mumbled to himself. "I can take a power nap and then head upstairs." Tapping on the screen with a pinky, he set an alarm on the phone, set it on the dashboard, and slouched down in the seat.

Thirty-seven minutes later

The snooze on the iphone went off again, bagpipe music wailing through the car. For two minutes of it, Dick sat in the seat, eyes screwed furiously closed. As it cut off, he blinked, and looked at the time. "Aw, shit. So much for the 'five more minutes mom' routine."

Swearing, he tried to lever himself out of the seat, then unbuckled his seatbelt and made a successful stab at it. Wobbling briefly, he slammed the car door, Warded his car against trolls (which he were sure lurked in the New York underground, no matter what uncle Bobby said about it) and walked quickly over towards the elevators.

Which were out of order, according to the sign on them as he rounded the corner. "You have got to be kidding me!" A look of annoyance on his face, he entered the stairwell, pausing with one foot on the first step to look at the invitation again. "The fifteenth floor? But I'm on the second basement!"

Muttering under his breath, he started taking the stairs, settling into a nice, steady pace. Eventually, he'd reach the right floor. And when he saw his divine father again, he'd ask for a raise. If anyone deserved it, he did.

[Cranky Dog]

One week before the gathering. Valcartier army base.

Serge took the envelope from the base courier. He recognized the man, but his usual mannerism was off. He felt that maybe he was being "ridden"; the odd military pin he was wearing, the same that his father wore when they first met confirmed his suspicion.

He opened the envelope to discover that his transfer has been approved, effective immediately. "What transfer?" was his first thought. He looked over the documentation, and it seemed genuine. Signed and stamped by the higher ups. Though it remained vague on the details of where he was being transferred.

At the bottom of the envelope was a plane ticket for New-York city, a reservation in a hotel and a handwritten note. The note had a date, time and location in the same hotel. At the back of it was written: "Think of it as our next meeting."

He said his farewells and left five days later.

One day before the meeting.

He never visited NYC before. Usually his trips abroad just stopped at the airport before moving on. But this time, he could actually walk the streets, see the sights, taste the food. Awesome city he thought.

But his sightseeing was short lived as he knew he had a schedule to meet.

Meeting day

He presented himself at the meeting room courteously on time to find that two other people were already there, unsure if it was the kind of people he was expecting.

Serge was in his dress uniform, with his various decorations, save for his red and white crown-beanie, to which he sewed on a Canadian army badge (always wondering if his father would object). The combination looked surprisingly good together. Showing his pride in his military career and his African roots simultaneously. He wore his sjambok under his arm, like military men do with regular crops (on TV at least).

He looked around the room to see if anyone else was present and seeing the disposition of the room, counted the numbers of chairs, giving him an idea of how many people to expect.

He presented himself out loud, his accent identifying as a native french speaker.

"Sergeant-Major Serge-Jean Sol-Hâteur, reporting for a... meeting." He presented the note he received.

The other guests looked at him incredulously, blinking.

Serge sighed, and said, as if by rote for the Nth time.

"Yes, that is my name and I am fully aware that it sounds like Sergeant Slaughter but I assure you that written out, it is a genuine name."

He entered the room.

[No pic yet]

[Alex Green]

"I'm Amica," she answered, without addressing the 'host or guest' question. "It's a little awkward, isn't it? Meeting a stranger under these circumstances. You or I could be something completely different from how we look. Mortal or immortal. Friend or rival."

Nick shook hands and replied with a smile, "Or even all of those."

Definitely a player in the grand game. Not a half sister, Hera, Aries, or Aphrodite. Artemis?

Alex walked up right next to Amica and examined her closely. He remarked, Not one of us. Hmm... Bast?

Nick's eyes flickered to Amica's right and he said, "Bast?" Who???

"Yes, that is my name and I am fully aware that it sounds like Sergeant Slaughter but I assure you that written out, it is a genuine name."

Nick used the interruption to cover his lapse and said, "Welcome Sergeant. I'm Nick."

Nick said to both of the others, "Imagine me with a limp".

[BlueNinja]

Winded, Dick hit the door out on the fifteenth floor. He took a moment to catch his breath, grinning at the guy in the business suit and his ... secretary ... as they boarded the elevator? Dick stared for a moment, then squinched his eyes shut. "Rig, Heimdall, I am so pissed at you right now. Just so you know." Sighing, he took a moment in the deserted hallway to adjust the holster of his revolver, settle the book back in his pocket as it tried to escape again, then sauntered nonchalantly down the hallway, counting off the rooms until he found the conference room.

Stepping inside, his eyes naturally went straight to the attractive woman in the room. Giving her one of his most charming smiles, he managed to size her up without his eyes straying too far down from her face. "Well, it looks like I'm in the right place," he said brightly, and let the door close behind him.

Glancing around, his eyes went first to the competition. The other guy was more handsome than he was, Dick could admit that much. Still, he didn't look like much. Dick felt confident the guy would be following behind him in a combat situation.

Then his eyes went to the other man in the room, and his eyes widened slightly. Man, now that guy will be good backup in a fight with titanspawn. Still, I hope he knows how to bust loose and relax.

His momentary evaluation complete, he turned a confident smile back to the mysterious woman. "My name's Richard Dean Winchester. But please, call me Dick." He waggled his eyebrows in a much-practiced move. "So, do the rest of you have to push up with annoying, pushy parents? Sorry if I'm late, by the way - driving all the way from southern California in two days was almost as hard as killing a Grendel single-handedly."

[SalmonMax]

Amica was put off step for a second when Nick guessed her mother's name. He could see it in the momentary narrowing of her eyes, the instant in which her body just stopped moving. Then she grinned easily and said, "Oh, not me. I'm just a humble, loyal daughter, doing my part."

Then the saints came marching in, one by one. Sgt "Slaughter" she greeted with a somewhat accusing smirk, and handshake and her own name, Amica Mason.

No time for pleasantries though before 'Dick' joined them. There was something almost charming in the ham-handedness of how he tried to ingratiate himself. Rip on the parents, then slip in a reference to his own bad-assery. Like watching a bear that had been trained to ride a bicycle.

Amica then took a moment to look around the room, and her eyebrows drew together slightly in a little frown as the implications began to sink in. Whatever was going on, or about to go on, it would require not one, not two, but four divine children, each with the kind of supernatural gifts she herself had. Trying to imagine what would require that level of overkill made her head spin.

"Good to meet you all, I guess," she said, "I realize it's a long shot, but did anyone get an actual explanation for what this was all about?"

[Cranky Dog]

Serge wasn't sure if he liked this latecomer. Too loud, too relaxed, too self-confident. He's seen his kind before in recruits. If they lasted, their attitudes didn't; to his face at least. But his words confirmed everyone's suspicions about the nature of the others. His Grendel comment giving a insight into his probable lineage.

Still, Serge reintroduced himself formally to the newcomer, again with the same explanation about the sounding of his name in English. But he consoled himself when he quickly realized there was a Nick, a Dick and an Amic(a) in the room and thought someone somewhere could make a children's TV show with just those names.

His mind returned to what Amica said.

"An actual explanation, no. But I do know that this is a place I am supposed to be, and that all of us are supposed to meet. The purpose? I'm betting it's to combine our efforts against whatever is out there that shouldn't be. I know this doesn't answer much, but it's corroborating with what little information I've had."

He looked everyone over, trying to surmise their ancestry. "I was expecting maybe more people like myself, but it looks like we're going to be a colorful bunch."

[SalmonMax]

Ami grinned teasingly. "Yeah...nothing colorful about 'Sergeant Slaughter,'" she quipped lightly. "If only we could all be as grounded and ordinary as that."

[Cranky Dog]

Serge replied with a shrug. "I've been living with this name for over thirty years. I got used to it. But what I meant was about our... true parents."

He looked in Dick's direction. "I didn't occur to me that some of the old dead religions still existed." He said it while making quotation marks with his fingers about the "dead" remark. "Frankly, I was half expecting to meet Jesus's grandson or Buddha junior."

[BlueNinja]

Dick snickered at Ami's little dig. "Well. I suppose we might as well introduce our lineage and stuff too. My father is Heimdall, guardian of the Bifrost bridge, as well as a bunch of other titles I can't remember. I've been driving around the country, killing off titanspawn for a couple of months now." He glanced pointedly at the soldier. "It's not all fun and games, though it does have its moments. I'm guessing that's why we're all here. I haven't met any children of Jesus or Buddha, but I have met a Persian deeva." He shuddered at the memory.

He pulled a Spock eyebrow lift as he glanced at the other two. "How long have the rest of you known you were divine?"

[Alex Green]

Amica was put off step for a second when Nick guessed her mother's name. He could see it in the momentary narrowing of her eyes, the instant in which her body just stopped moving. Then she grinned easily and said, "Oh, not me. I'm just a humble, loyal daughter, doing my part."

Nick took in Amica's reaction and said, "Lucky Guess."

Alex replied, More like logical thought. The shade of her skin, her general manor, Bast is Egypt's cat-god. It was a coin flip but a good one. So then baby brother, what do we make of these two men?"

Nick said, "Um..."

Sergeant Slaughter is probably with the Loa, and I'd peg Dick as a Aesir Viking. The Aesir are all serious warrior types, it's just part of the package.

Nick let the others introduce themselves then he said, "Hephaestus the forger. The email summons was pretty non-specific. And I haven't known very long. My older brother got killed doing this and I sort of stepped into his shoes."

[Cranky Dog]

On Serge's turn: "I learned I was something more than human last month. I don't know if I'd call myself divine or some sort of superhero. I just know that things aren't the same anymore. Some are good, some are bad, most of them are just plain weird."

"As to who my father is. He is called Shango, Loa god of thunder and justice. Loas are the African voodoo gods by the way. A colorful bunch themselves."

He turns his attention to Dick. "I'm curious. You actually met and fought those titanspawns? What do they look like? I haven't encountered anything like that, but I kept sensing something big coming my way."

[BlueNinja]

Dick grins at the Sarge and starts counting things off on his fingers. "Harpies, more harpies, a restless zombie, a baby Fenrir, a deeva, and a Grendel." He shrugs. "Honestly, I spend most of my time sorting through weird news articles and conspiracy theory occult websites to find them than I do fighting them." He moves over and pulls out a chair, sitting down and leaning back with his fingers laced behind his head. "Everything but the zombie went down pretty easily from a couple of bullets. Well, and the Grendel. He took a lot of bullets." He suddenly grins ferally. "And a train."

The grin fading, he turns to look at Nick. "I'm sorry to hear about your brother. Hopefully, we can all watch each other's backs and keep any of the rest of us from dying."

[SalmonMax]

"I've known for around seven...maybe eight months," Amica said, picking out a seat at the table and sitting down. "Some kind of crazy monster came after me. Killed it. Since then I've mostly been going after these 'titanspawn' by going after what they own. Turns out a lot of our corporate malefactors have these things somewhere high up, pulling the strings. The way I see it, if I kill a giant or a goblin or something, another one will just take its place. But..." she winked and tapped her nose, "...if I get one of their companies locked down under investigation, or fined into insolvency, well that weakens their whole organization, their whole structure."

She sighs and adds ruefully, "Easier said than done though."

[BlueNinja]

"I've known for around seven...maybe eight months, Since then I've mostly been going after these 'titanspawn' by going after what they own. Turns out a lot of our corporate malefactors have these things somewhere high up, pulling the strings. The way I see it, if I kill a giant or a goblin or something, another one will just take its place. But..." she winked and tapped her nose, "...if I get one of their companies locked down under investigation, or fined into insolvency, well that weakens their whole organization, their whole structure."

"That's pretty good," despite his words, Dick's face clearly meant "Boring!" "The monsters I've hunted have all been more the lone wolf type." He sighs. "Figures that the titanspawn would have backup. They probably have freaking Diamond American Express cards, too."

Leaning back in the chair again, he looks up at the ceiling. "Alright, we're all here," he says loudly. "Now what?" As he rocks the chair gently, his notebook falls out of his pocket.

[Cranky Dog]

"That's pretty good," despite his words, Dick's face clearly meant "Boring!" "The monsters I've hunted have all been more the lone wolf type." He sighs. "Figures that the titanspawn would have backup. They probably have freaking Diamond American Express cards, too."

Serge's thoughts were running wild now. He stood up, and started pacing the room. He needed to move.

"I'm still new at all of this, but... Restless zombies? Does it mean there a passive zombies? A Grendel? Not *the* Grendel? Monster hunts and corporate giants with credit cards?"

He stopped to look at each and everyone. "You are all aware of how crazy that sounds, right? I haven't seen anything monstrous of any kind. I'm still figuring out what I can and cannot do. I don't know if there weren't any monsters because I was on an army base or because they didn't know I existed or if they just ignored me or if they just hate the cold. Yet somehow I know you're all telling the truth."

"But there is one thing I did notice unmistakably. And I want to know if it happened to you too. It's how different people act around me now. Towards me specifically. It's like they're behaviors are more extreme in some way. Every little thing I did had consequences you could feel."

[BlueNinja]

"I'm still new at all of this, but... Restless zombies? Does it mean there a passive zombies? A Grendel? Not *the* Grendel? Monster hunts and corporate giants with credit cards?"

Dick nods. "Restless zombie, victim of a curse by a voodoo practitioner gone bad. A Grendel, being a sort of titanspawn-amped human, the original of which was the one in the Danish myth." He glances over at Amica. "I'm not sure about corporate titanspawn."

"But there is one thing I did notice unmistakably. And I want to know if it happened to you too. It's how different people act around me now. Towards me specifically. It's like they're behaviors are more extreme in some way. Every little thing I did had consequences you could feel."

Dick just nods to the last part. Obviously the mention of that brings up some not-so-pleasant memories.

[Alex Green]

The grin fading, he turns to look at Nick. "I'm sorry to hear about your brother. Hopefully, we can all watch each other's backs and keep any of the rest of us from dying."

Nick nodded and replied, "At least until we become heroes. It wouldn't be so bad then. Dying isn't so bad, it's what happens after that's important."

"I've known for around seven...maybe eight months," Amica said, picking out a seat at the table and sitting down. "Some kind of crazy monster came after me. Killed it. Since then I've mostly been going after these 'titanspawn' by going after what they own. Turns out a lot of our corporate malefactors have these things somewhere high up, pulling the strings. The way I see it, if I kill a giant or a goblin or something, another one will just take its place. But..." she winked and tapped her nose, "...if I get one of their companies locked down under investigation, or fined into insolvency, well that weakens their whole organization, their whole structure."

Nick said, "Now that is an interesting idea. I get the idea that organization doesn't come easy to them."

"But there is one thing I did notice unmistakably. And I want to know if it happened to you too. It's how different people act around me now. Towards me specifically. It's like they're behaviors are more extreme in some way. Every little thing I did had consequences you could feel."

Nick shook his head, he hadn't noticed.

Alex spoke up, Mortals can get a sense fate if it's big enough. Not what it is of course, just that it's big. It bothers most of them. Think of a bar tensing up before the fight happens.

Nick said, "I've heard that mortals can.... um... notice fate I guess. Not what it is, just that it's big."

[SalmonMax]

Amica just nods.

"I dunno about sensing fate, but yeah, I kind of freak people out now unless I'm careful. I try to keep a low profile these days...publicly at least."

[Cranky Dog]

Nick nodded and replied, "At least until we become heroes. It wouldn't be so bad then. Dying isn't so bad, it's what happens after that's important."

Serge looked somberly at Nick.

"You think being a hero makes death easier? I've served nearly two years in Afghanistan. I've seen good people die. The country can call them heroes, they can give them state funerals even. But look at their family afterwards. Heroics doesn't mend the broken heart of a mother who lost her only son."

"I know its weird coming from a career soldier. But I'm one of those guys who wants to stop war at the front lines, not wage it. I want to show the world that just because something is different doesn't mean that it doesn't have to exist. And I also don't forgive those who cause pain just because they can."

He slumped down in one the seats, looking at the ceiling, and sighed. "Maybe I'm just delusional... or a hypocritical jerk with everything that's happening."

[Alex Green]

Nick chuckles at Serge's response and says, "I don't think, I know. The evil dead go to hell or Tartarus or whatever you want to call it and are punished forever. The heroes go to Heaven. The normals don't get either and that's a lot more people than the church wants to admit. I still talk to Alex sometimes and he says the Asphodel Meadows are pretty sucky. He didn't quite make the cut to get into heaven."

[Cranky Dog]

Dick nods. "Restless zombie, victim of a curse by a voodoo practitioner gone bad.

"So there are more voodoo guys out there", thought Serge. Mortal practitioners or other godly children, he wondered. He kept the question for later or the meeting will never start. *If* it starts.

Nick said, "I've heard that mortals can.... um... notice fate I guess. Not what it is, just that it's big."

"I dunno about sensing fate, but yeah, I kind of freak people out now unless I'm careful. I try to keep a low profile these days...publicly at least."

Serge was glad that his observations weren't unique or limited to himself.

"Call it what you will, but I've learned I can't show off just for fun, or else Murphy's law will join the party."

Nick chuckles at Serge's response and says, "I don't think, I know. The evil dead go to hell or Tartarus or whatever you want to call it and are punished forever. The heroes go to Heaven. The normals don't get either and that's a lot more people than the church wants to admit. I still talk to Alex sometimes and he says the Asphodel Meadows are pretty sucky. He didn't quite make the cut to get into heaven."

Serge wasn't sure if Nick was genuine or a complete loon. But at the looks of things in the past weeks, he could hardly ignore the man's words either.

"So the afterlife really does exist, huh?" he said matter of factly. "That'll put a couple of philosophers out of the job."

[Alex Green]

Nick nodded and said, "Some of them were right. Probably the ones who were secretly our relatives. It exists, and there are rules, and life isn't fair."

Nick glanced at Alex and said a little bitterly, "not fair at all." Nick shrugged and got over it. He added with a trace of amusement, "And the rules weren't set up to reward the faint of heart."

[SalmonMax]

Amica just sat, watched and listened now. To look at her one might think she wasn't really paying attention, staring off blankly at the far wall...and in truth she was distracted a bit by wondering who else was coming...or if something other than Bast had dared falsify a message somehow. Could this be a trap?

She shifted her eyes to the door. Listening and waiting with all the patience of her mother's pets.

[metaphysician]

As the parties in the room continue their conversations, the large monitor at the one side suddenly turns on of its own volition. The screen now carries the image of an unassuming woman with short, light brown hair and piercing gray eyes.

"Hello everyone, I see that you all arrived safely. You may call me Rachel. I am your handler for this 'assignment.' First, let me explain the reason you have all been gathered. Most of you are probably familiar with various urban legends about the New York City underground. These rumors are based in fact, as the system has certain. . . unusual. . . properties, and connects with a handful of terra incognitae on an intermittent basis. Most of the supernatural hazards were cleared from the sewers in the late 1970s, however."

"Which made this. . ." A part of the screen shifts to images from television news reports, about a missing woman found dead. ". . .a matter of concern." The printer contained within the assembly of media equipment begins printing.

"Anne Dougherty, 17, found dead a week ago in the outflow of the sewer treatment plant. Not normally an event that would draw significant media," there is a hint of disgust in her tone, "except that she was the daughter of a wealthy family, who ran away six months ago. And this would not normally make it a direct matter for 'our' affairs, either. . . except for two things."

The screen shifts again, showing autopsy photos. . . rather gruesome ones. "First, her body shows signs of ritual torture and abuse, consistent with known techniques used by various Titan cults in the past. Sadly, the degree of damage post-mortem is too much to prove this, one way or another, or to determine exact affiliation. Second, and more worrisome, multiple seers and prophets from several pantheons have reported visions and messages that contain the element 'death coming from below.' While the prophecies are vague, all pantheons are giving a priority to investigating matters with an underground connection."

"That is where you four come in. Your mission, should you choose to accept it," Is that a hint of a suppressed grin? "Is to investigate the New York underground, and determine the actual cause of Anne Doughterty's death. If you find a supernatural danger, deal with it using your best judgment. If you instead find an ordinary deranged serial killer, likewise, use your best judgment."

"Questions?"

[BlueNinja]

Dick sits up abruptly as the screen comes to life, and pays close attention to the news reports and autopsy photos. "Yeah, I have a question. You have a map, Rachel? Some idea of which parts would be best to search first, rather than us having to find rubber suits and air tanks to trek through a couple hundred miles of sewer tunnels?"

He pauses, then pulls out his phone. "And one more thing," he says, dialing. "Hey, Uncle Bobby? Remember that fifty dollar bet about monsters in the New York underground? Yep, I just won." He hangs up and grins at the screen. "What kind of monsters are we talking about, anyway? Trolls, goblins, more Grendels?"

[SalmonMax]

"What kind of resources are you offering?" Amica asked immediately. "This is going to take time, and we'll need gear we don't have to pull it off. That all adds up to money. Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking for a reward. I just want to know what kind of expenses are covered."

[Cranky Dog]

...Your mission, should you choose to accept it,"

"She just had to say it, didn't she," groaned Serge on the inside.

"Questions?"

Serge kept thinking back at his own vision (or was it a prophecy too?) about his meeting with new companions and moving towards a incoming darkness. He couldn't clearly remember, was the darkness coming from below them? If his own prophecy was coming true, what about the one he made with his father?

That simple thought made him reflexively take a deep breath as if about to be submerged.

"Yeah, I got a few," said Serge.

"First of all, I'm resisting the urge to pointlessly ask who you really are which should be normal for a this type of situation. You obviously work for or with other... uhm, powers, but aren't willing to immediately divulge too much or else you would already have done it. So I'm going with the proverbial leap of faith here to trust what you're saying." Serge looked at the other participants in the room. "I have my reasons."

"You already seem to know a lot about us and know how to contact us. But how do we contact you or whomever you're with?" He pulls out his own cell phone, holding it up as if to show her, uncertain if she can see them at all through the monitor. "Is it something as simple as phoning you? Or are you more of a "Don't call us, we'll call you" type of person?"

"Are there more people like us that will be coming or are we all that there is?"

"About this girl, was she targeted specifically or was she just at the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"Finally, where do we start looking?"

[Alex Green]

Nick said, "What they said and... a week ago. It's unlikely her ghost is still hanging around her body, but if she is then it could be useful to talk to her. Or you know, maybe not. Where is the body now?"

"Oh, and I doubt we'll need to search hundreds of miles of tunnels. Fate will see to that."

[metaphysician]

"To answer your questions. First, in terms of native wildlife, previously the sewers were a mixed bag. Mostly subterranean titanspawn and various nemean and otherwise mutated animals, but otherwise, you could find nearly anything. Our best guess is, expect some of those types of beings, regardless of what is going on."

"Second, Scion of Athena, and it is nice to occasionally work with people who have experienced a chain of command, Sergeant."

*the hum of the printer continues*

"Third, in regarding resources, the printouts contain a number of untraceable credit card numbers. Mr Winchester should be more than able to turn those into usable cash."

"As for contacting me, there is a phone number in the printouts. It will reach me. Try and avoid using it except in an emergency. Don't count on any backup, though, unless the city is about the be invaded by giants."

"Now, on the matter of the girl and where to start, I can offer you two leads. First, via my own investigation, it seems Ms Dougherty was associating with a gathering of homeless people residing near Dewitt Clinton Park. As of six hours ago, the police have *not* tracked down this connection, so I would suggest being quick and quiet. Second, her body was found by public works employees. While the police have interviewed the associated personnel, there are things a sewer worker sees and hears that he wouldn't tell to the police, at least on the record. In the files is the name of the supervisor in question; how to make contact with him I leave to your own resources."

"As for the body and possible ghosts, sadly, that has already been checked. No accessible ghost. The full police and coroners report, including a few extra notations, is included in the files being printed; I would ask you not approach the police department. There is an individual in place who would be endangered if exposed."

[BlueNinja]

Dick hops to his feet, and starts collecting the printouts. "I can work with these, sure," he says, and pulling out his iphone, starts tapping away while listening intently. When it comes to the bit about the ghost, he turns his head sharply to look at Rachel. "So, is there no ghost, like you can't find what afterlife she went to, or is there no ghost, like something devoured it?"

[Alex Green]

Alex said, Interesting. You're not the only one who can talk to dead people. But if there were someone around strong enough to answer that question then they wouldn't need us.

Nick said, "A good question. I'm not sure we know the answer. If she's not around then it'd take someone a lot stronger than me to tell the difference. That leaves going to the homeless and trying to trace her steps forward, or the sewer supervisor. Anyone have a preference for who does what?"

[Cranky Dog]

"As for contacting me, there is a phone number in the printouts. It will reach me. Try and avoid using it except in an emergency. Don't count on any backup, though, unless the city is about the be invaded by giants."

Serge sighed out loud. "Invaded by giants... and I'm sure you're not even kidding us."

He looked at the others, wondering if they concluded the same thing as him. "But what you're also telling us is that you're not alone in this, that whomever you're with has plenty of power, but you don't want to reveal it to soon to the enemies, if at all and that you are also aware of what happens when we use our powers around normal people."

[Alex Green]

Nick said, "It's not just they don't want to tip their hand to our enemies. We have a lot more freedom to act than upper management does." Nick's eyes flickered to one side and he added, "And there's a lot more of us at this level too."

Nick mentally flipped a coin and said, "I think I'll go have an engineer to engineer talk with that guy."

[BlueNinja]

Dick looks up at Amica and Nick. "I've got a badge, if bring down an 'authority figure' will help. Lemme know what you want to order, and I should be able to get ninety percent of it delivered here to the hotel. I've already got some hip-waders and breathing gear that'll be here tomorrow morning. The other ten percent I'll have to make cards for you to use." Glancing over at the screen, he taps the printer with his iPhone. "So, you got a map, or do I have to hunt that up myself?"